Fuck Society

You speak through me 

as if I were a mannequin.

Through you all that I have felt

and all that remains within me still to feel

is made to sound hollow, laughable.

You who would guide my hands

will not pay the cost of their labor.

All that I do, I must do, in service to your greed.

And if your advice knocks me off course

it is I, alone, who shoulders the blame.

You who boldly claim to possess

the secret to success and happiness

do not know what it is that makes me tick

and how could you possibly know

when I am but one cog among billions?


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