Glutton

Scraping

Rending

Tearing

Biting

Starving.

Civilized murder,

Adequate waste,

Rewarded slovenliness

Accecptable failure.

These are things that do not exist,

Yet they do.

I dreamt one night;

Of kings and such

ignoble things.

I saw a world,

Consumed with confusing greed.

A world in which things,

For they were lower than people,

Devoured for the questionable pleasures

It brings.

A world in which

The Good

Fed the Bad.

A world in which

Murder was simply a word to them,

Committed in sterile, far off realms

For their convenience.

Yet this disconnection

Was like a dislocated limb;

Useless and Detrimental to the

Whole.

I woke from my dream with a start.

The day had begun.

I threw open the house's blinkers,

And found dream to be reality.

With light sigh and loathsome dread,

I took it into my head

to break my fast

at long last.

And with such tepid resolve lodged firm in my gut,

I gave leave for seat to meet butt.

And sat.

Scraping.

Rending.

Tearing.

Biting.

Wasting.

The End

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