No mercy for the masses.

No mercy for the masses.

should we pity the masses, the convoluted that sit in gutters?
drink it down and sing you worthless cardboard cut out!
does your tongue feel like carpet?
well, you're still breathing!
like the bellows, pumps those leather lungs of yours
(a cigarette between your teeth)
contort that lovely mouth of yours!
say something! scream, speak! pontificate!
thus spoke zarathustra!
the last time you dropped out
and your... psyche? do you even have one?
god only knows how many litres of alcohol you have
drowned in? drunk? shower us with your words:
thus he spoke
get thee hence!
you coked up bastard, lipidous mass
what are you?
a woman, a man, a child? a Uranian excuse?
zaftig? corpse? what is it you really want?
say it, say it, say it damn you!
thus spoke that little voice!
billboard men!
wretches!
run back to your office cubicle
you refuse to speak!
type out every little feeling you possess:
if you dare.
but speak, god damn you.
speak.