who are you monkeys
who spend half of your lives
complaining to yourselves
and the other half
complaining about having no time to live?
when you're angered
by the very unfairness that you yourselves cause
because you're too scared to stop?
what right have you
with your loathsome narcissism
to your fears of imagined injustice
when you have real problems
that you sophistically explain away?
you push, and you stamp, and you whine
on the bus, in the elevator, in the food line
but you never stop for just one minute
and think,
maybe i can change
maybe we all can change
just as soon as you
stop hating
your own
voice of reason
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