What is the joy in winning,
If something suffers and loses,
Why put my strength in competition,
When I can put my power behind others.
The wildness in a tiger's eyes
Scares us and it is shot and used,
The lust for a child in a man's eyes
Is thoroughly examined and then excused.
What makes us so much better?
What makes each one unique?
NOTHING!
We are savage in our notion of self-importance.
I pine for isolation from this disease,
It infects every space and contour,
It spits in our mighty seas,
Destruction, in our eyes, is the only cure.
Our addiction is power over weaker beings,
We thrive on paper and coins,
And we move like locusts in season,
Yet monsters still creep from our loins.
I believe in aliens,
They are a well-oiled unstoppable machine,
They will rape, torture and strip us down,
Just look in a mirror, and you will see what I mean.
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