I have it on good authority that there are four simple components that, when combined, guarantee a happy existence on this floating space-rock. Unfortunately, I have it on better authority that no-one knows what these four components are. Even worse, at least two-point-three million people are currently pedaling fakes! The nerve!
Me on the anti-homeless spikes being implemented in certain cities:
Why can’t we try,
When children cry,
For a parent who loves them more than dope,
and snorting coke.
How can we lie,
to the families of those who’ve died,
fighting a war they didn’t believe in.
You don’t know where a person came from, you don’t know if it’s their fault, so give them the benefit of the doubt, instead of pretending you’re devout. A homeless person could be a student, a parent, a veteran, or even you. People treat them like they aren’t people, and that’s sick. Sometimes life isn’t fair, so it’s rough when the people with the power to change that deny the issue.
Go to school and follow your dream. Absorb the knowledge, a rocky stream, that’ll lead to college. High-brow vitriol, all of it seems designed to keep the little guy safe in his roll, of serving the upper-echelon of hate, berate, with the faux-power they create.
Manufactured on the backs of slaves while they procreate, generations of wealth evacuated from the drain of poverty.
Anything to maintain the facade, that God, made them superior to their fellows. The ones who work tirelessly to turn the wheels of the fallows, a despicable gallows.
The artificial needs,
of the one,
outweighing millions of starving.
So we tell the plods, to get a fucking job. To pull themselves up by their bootstraps, the same ones we tore.
Reassuring each-other that we followed the dream that they didn’t,
because they’re weak, unworthy, inferior.
If they were like us, why didn’t they follow their dreams?
How can they? When our cocaine arteries bleed nothing but green.
A cancerous greed leads to crushing deeds. Evil. And I’m part of that. What a thing to feel both guilt and relief, that I can pay to eat.