Your Fresh Flesh

Fresh FleshThe mottled flesh, only slightly more healthy
Than the adjacent green glow.
Dried blood a juxtaposition of life and death
In the arid desert.

Pride fuels my hate, and drives me to be
You say you want to help the children,
But you only want to help yourself.

The country’s largest inner city wildlife and nature refuge.
Full of people passing, and pissing, and trashing and being
The sort of sub-ape, truly antisocial, sociopaths
That only HUMANS are capable of.

Rust, rot and ruin are signs of reverse progress.
So at least there was once some semblance or order.
But the progress I see us working towards
Make my vainglory anthem of self absolution,
Almost acceptable.


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