We are not precious or individual
Special pure white snowflakes
But rather the black sticky
Residue of burnt coal
Poisoning our lungs with every breath

We are nothing more than cancerous
Vile, bulimic little miscreants
Pushed and bound by our pride
Our lusts and desires winning our souls
Leading us nowhere but to eternal death

Who am I to judge I know
For I am exactly the same
Lost to my own devious little schemes
Thoughts and deeds that lead me away
Down another dead end path alone

I do not love, and so I hate
I do not dream for I wouldn't dare
I clench my fists and curse my fate
Pretending that I do not care
When I cannot find my way home

This alone, is the human condition
Fighting a war of silent attrition
Flesh and blood and so much suffering
Tearing us limb from limb
Rending the very skin from bone