What is the meaning of their blasphemous pride?

This blaming ride,

 The escape goat, am I?

 What is the point of the out of place lies?

Economic declines?

Existential remnants of permanent enclosures?

Entitlement to the unexposed absentee,

Left to fend for himself for a few human's sake

 To become richer.

 Here I am with my paper in hand, their snaggled toothed grins lurk over their broad rimmed glasses, suits with ties that clash, and a rudimentary pen that says "Welcome to America" you'll be paid off in your retirement years.

 Long distance relationships through the web at 13

 Hiked black skirts and cropped neon shirts,

 Rolled around in the remains of raves and adjoined to be smoked until they too burn away

 A firework tied to your ass, you're expected to fly

 But what about that weight that holds you back

 You hear claps applauding your useless endeavors, and through the crowd you hear "PASS"

 That would me

I'm asking for a hall pass

Because this will not last too long.

 Scavenging for the meaning of life in the remains of a few restless flames, without a meager inkling of respect or providence for the soon to be null and void.

 The stake holder being the only important soul in a morass of charred hopes.

You regurgitate lies to get your way.

 My culture has forced me to be a mosquito, drawn to a seemingly harmless light and then burned to death when it realizes that it’s fought for drug has been poison.

 Success is your predetermined light.

 You'll see the stars beaming neon sparks, cropped tops or dying fireworks?  

 The remnants of a society instead force the youth to grow up too fast, to advance. 

      Advance towards what?

 A glorified paycheck.

Append them with work, and then kill them off slowly.

 Perhaps by using their encrusted joint.

Because if blood is wages, and I am a mosquito, then you are going to be pretty damn rich

 And the neon encrusted laborers of youth will be too inherent in manipulated explanations to understand that the sparks in the sky are hope of a new generation’s new advancements towards a better society.

 And stuck in the cascading light before them these clones fly to their doom

Because my culture revolves around knowing the vulgar fact that we are nothing more than tax-paying mosquitoes.

 And my identity is to find a way to reach the light outside of my direct view.