Perhaps it's best we're dumb, and so
won't anticipate the blow.
Perhaps it's really just a kindness
that we have such a streak of blindness,
that we're so steeped in our denial
our faces never lose their smile,
remaining cloaked in joviality,
a full divorce from all reality,
and good our mood is so subdued;
we might be rude if we were clued.
Perhaps it's good we've been so lulled
and live our lives with senses dulled.
Perhaps it serves a higher purpose
that some brain sucker seemed to slurp us
and then quite strangely took the pains
to fill our heads with bovine brains.
Perhaps it's best we're still deceived
without the concept yet conceived
of billions dead, the rest bereaved
and though our race will soon be routed
we still don't know a thing about it.
It could be best; although I doubt it.