There’s no such thing as sadness,
Just anger and despair,
But what pisses me off the most,
Is the fact that I don’t care.
Selective groups that work,
Open funds that don’t,
Human nature takes its course,
But good ole’ virtue won’t.
I want to be involved,
I want to be around,
I want to cause excitement,
Not muffled, garbled sounds.
So do they, I say,
Just like the outside me,
But what I don’t tell them,
Is what they need to see.
And in my quest for dominance,
My search for greatest being,
I’ve left no homeward markers,
Others, too, agreeing.
I see the precipice,
And step into the light,
But when they march on home,
My sword has no fight.
And that’s why I’m a monster,
A known teratogen,
So I seep into my dungeon,
Paradox plug in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem