with God’s choice, you’re matched with a life
a simple lottery number, you are born into the very rich
the very poor
the simple middle. you ask questions but the answers are
a tiny prayer offered before a scarce meal
gluttony at it’s finest & greed sky high
our world becomes demoralized by the second
she withers away
he needs a casket
but who can afford one?
one human race
divided into many useless groups
who do you follow?
your mosque, your solitude
your mosque, my fear
we are simply animals
no better than mere animals
why bark when we can think?
an explosive made, you’re a martyr
a gun shining in the rays of the sun
what will you prove to your god today?
minutes, hours, days gone with the wind
our sins pile up like trash in a landfill
a rancid stink intrudes our senses
but this is what it means to be…