People’s mouths are their assholes too often it seems.
Body parts we all have, and they’re all much the same.
Certain parts of the psyche that do the most harm
Are also the very ones that are used to charm
The way through life as if it were just a fun game.
Differences among psyches span all extremes.
How does life get much better? Need I poll the crowd
And record all my findings, then make a report
To the obsessive compulsive self in some need
Of notice from outside itself? This can but lead
To a life loud and looney. I sell myself short
By the buying of likes. How can I then feel proud?
Prostitution made social, perception is clear
Of the ways human nature perceives and responds
To the slightest vibrations. Making others wrong…
Or myself is of no use. I’m where I belong.
It is natural, yet I must learn to form bonds
That retain their significance year after year.
All the ones who accept and support me are those
Who are of a like feather. They mirror the bird
Rising up from the ashes of foolish mistakes.
My opponents are, for me, a source of headaches.
I shall take no one’s temperature, as preferred,
But my own through a process I need not disclose.