The Leader
The vacant pustulation
Of your insincerity
Manifests with a half smile
Punctuated by contempt
You think you occupy a station
In the pseudo social hierarchy

So deserving of the message
Declaring your guilt and need
To fuckin’ get over yourself
Your presence beckons forth
The butt of unheard jokes
And simmering whispers of contempt

Designer labels have no worth
On the corner of Hard Street and Life
Like a two seat sportster
And a three person family
This puny mind within your skull
Has no capacity for love or caring

Consumed by the drive for prestige
You steer your course through life
Coasting blithely on the backs of those
More deserving and worthy
Than to be used up and abused
As your fuckin' floor mat

Yet…their pain goes unnoticed
For you long ago decided
That you were a superior subspecies
Devoid of unnecessary compassion
For "them" yet here you stand
The archetypal sub-optimal human

Asking for guidance to repentance
And redemption by offering payment
To purge the picture of your remembrance
That will be conjured by history
Not understanding or able to comprehend
That the offering symbolizes your truth