| » Poem: Infectious coroporations |
Infectious coroporations
written by Genocide Reaper01:40 AM 11/11/04| Model 001 model 002...Fuck you! Corporate collection of clones, such a worthless creation, like a cyst, a tumor in the skull of society, the body is infected with cancer, popularity is a hypocrasy, lies to spread the infection. Scrape the wound, cleanse it with gas and booze. Numbness is better than pitiful attempts to feel lies. They don't care what you like, they stamp a label on something and send it down the assembly line, mass production of Social cult construction. Demise of pride in preception, they lie and want to suffocate your dedication to art. They are the ones who care nothing for you or your work. Your words will be consumed, swallowed, and shit out onto a assembly line, used for greedy dipshits that want more money. What model are you? What label did they hand you? What life did they make for you? What record company did you sell out to? Who's idol do you want to be? Who's turmoil do you want to end? What did you let them mold you into? Where is your pride? And why did you let your instincts die? You are a slave, sent to a preverbial grave. Drone of the destiny they picked for you. Industry product, behaving by their laws of conduct. |
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Author's footnotes and comments on this Poem:
Think about it.
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