Nature has become overwhelm
Bosses have lost their worth
All we have are in a mess
Our heart and mind is our judge

Our struggles, now, someone’s bread
Opportunities, our own, we dread
Our perceptions though mag not be right
Thus, kill it with wrath, attack it with fright

It may cease and subdue your conscience
When you treat it with no essence
Your poison; however, someone’s meat
Be content now and ever with your means


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