Ambi-Dexter-Ous? (A Sanguineous Sonnet?) Poem by Dan Reynolds

I often wonder where my future lays
within this less than great, inhuman race.
Rewinding, analysing all he says,
whilst practising my empathising pace.

Imagining that I was in that crate.
A toddler on a photographic spool
Exposed to re-develop Mother’s fate
and yet, still find the spattered blood stains cool.

Conditioned by a thousand reels of gore,
my eye is dry, my throat denies the gulp.
I watch the carnage calmly and ignore
the chainsaw slowly churning her to pulp.

I guess as a result of that bloodbath...
I’m rooting for a bloody psychopath.