Be The Oxygen, Part I: Suffocation

in poetry •  6 years ago 

Ever since the bleeding edge of history,
the rule sets never made sense to me.
The protocol calls trading bliss for greed,
at all costs, manifest destiny.

Mankind is filled with the kind of men
that would rather blind them than be kind to them,
would rather grab 'em by the kitty than seek the mind in them,
would rather roast a whole city just to find a gem,
than be the kind of men
that doesn't use them as condiments.

Let's step back, take five and see
if making cents makes any sense...

manifest-destiny.jpeg

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