I don’t want to preach;
but I must appeal.
For the extraction of a leech,
Rescinding of the deal.
What right my race?
To gorge and grin,
Then show audacities face,
And claim a win
When all we’ve done,
Is suck the worth,
And call it fun.
What idle mirth?
Society is cruel,
Vindictive and spoiled.
It has its own rule,
But is easily foiled.
One can live outside it,
If space is left within,
And still be inside it,
Trying to not give in.
