like nails on an old school chalkboard.
You're totally unaware of your
self-absorbed,
gluttonous horde--
a smorgasbord
of wasteful grunge.
Oh, how I'd love to take a sponge
and rain
on your parade--
your meaningless charade.
Then that new dew smell
can permeate your vain-ass brain.
Let the gravel drain
through a colander of humility...
then a confrontation of pain
will stimulate your ability
to finally regain
a sense of unity.
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