How can you feel holy
By enjoying the pain of others?
Where is your righteousness
When you deny starving mothers
And brothers and fathers
And sisters and all others
Who need your help the most?
Does it add fat to your roast?
Is compassion some kind of crime?
Does it rob you of a dime
When you have so many millions
And not enough time to spend them?

Your logic is totally illogical!
It’s just short of scatological,
And adds up to the villainy
Of a well-armed sworn enemy.
This abhorrence of equality
Is your standard normality.
It often seems that being smug
Works on you like a kind of drug
That makes you see your neighbor
As nothing more than slave labor.
You who won’t throw dogs a bone
Did you get where you are alone?

How can you feel holy
By enjoying the pain of others?
Where is your righteousness
When you deny starving mothers
And brothers and fathers
And sisters and all others
Who need your help the most?
Does it add fat to your roast?
Is compassion some kind of crime?
Does it rob you of a dime
When you have so many millions
And not enough time to spend them?

You are taking a word such as liberal
And making a synonym for criminal.
You seem to want freedom to choose
As opportunity for religious abuse.
How are these oppressions you do
Good for anyone, not even for you?
For sure it might gain you some gold
That won’t love you when you grow old.
Unless you intend on buying affection
You won’t get much from an election.
The people who will applaud are shallow
If they let the world’s fields lie fallow.

Regarding entitlement
What is really true?
Look at the contract;
What are you entitled to?
Who told you what,
When and where,
And why should anyone
Besides yourself care?

What are the terms of
This entitlement scheme?
Are they exactly as
Precise as they seem?
What was promised
That you feel cheated?
Is there an inheritance
That has not been treated?

Are you an heir or else
A member of royalty
And thus deserve to
Have absolute loyalty?
Are there lands and deeds
You feel are owed you
Or is it just that you feel
Everyone is below you?

It would help you and us
If you could narrow this down.
Do you feel you own everything
And everyone in around?
Do you feel we should bend
And bow as you pass
And that maybe we should
Kiss your noble ***?

There was once a stingy, little toad
with fire upon its head,
a shrilly voice of ignorance
that left annoyance in its stead.

The rules it made were silly
and gave good reason to rebel.
It wouldn't let the others speak.
Why? No one could tell.

Its disconnect was obvious
when treating toads like flies.
And all pretended to do what told
until it turned its eyes.

It sits upon its lily pad
as if better than the rest--
unaware that the other toads
are, frankly, sick to death.

Better than you;
always considered myself superior
--a delusion I nurtured
with vicious remarks
and cold sniggers;
within the remotest of land,
full of dust,
you learned to bloom
with your youthful flowers
growing larger
than me
and yourself.

Perhaps I peered too closely into the abysmal potholes of other people’s souls
of whom I had no business pilfering through in the first place.
Now I ponder about feelings and memories that do not belong to me
some of which are long forgotten, disregarded, or even irrelevant.
Of this information that I have unearthed and processed, I know not what to do with it.
I am perpetually preoccupied with what lies beneath the surface point, which is what pushes me forward, yet could propel me to my downfall.
I just sit here and anxiously ponder this arcane information I acquiesced
through means not noble to my standard of normal morals.
There is nothing else to do.
For I rest here in the realm of reality.
This is no novel of fiction for me to figure out.
I can’t flip through the pages of people’s plights.
Something like that does not fall within my rights.
I am a mere meddling mortal amongst other mortals.
I am no god who sits proudly upon their plethora of others’ secrets.

I am just another human being.

All humans are broken inside
They are all just shattered glass
Held together
By some ****** up duct tape
The more they live
And move on in life
The more troublesome shards
Fall from them  
They rot slowly
Until they are dead
They are all dead men
Each with a due date
Carved on their hearts
That is when their debts are due
And they have nothing
But their soul
To pay the price of living
Humans think they're so smart
But really, they're just as brain dead
As the next species
If not stupider
They have their cliques and societies
Those cute little clubs
Where they harass anyone
Who is considered other or lesser
While the animals roam free
Living short but happy lives
Without a care in the world
Except for the destruction
That the humans cause
In the natural order
How can they be considered superior just because they can have thought?
Thought only leads to depression
Thought only leads to jealousy
Thought only leads to killing
I am ashamed to say that I am a
Human.