Manufactured Monsters

This system forged me,
patchwork, piecemeal, pasted together
project of scar tissue.

My shell is weathered, tough
and bursting at the seams with experience.

Your false nuance between equality and fairness, 
your hat trick blaming my faults on genetic fairytales.

Culpability fades on the horizon like smoke. 

Your gullible ancestors made you naive;
control at my behest expires.

Please feed me lessons on vulnerability;
I learn versatility
and unfiltered volume.

Selective hearing is an idol, worshipped by
the pious children whose fathers
started a war that spawns generations

of casualties, sparse benefits,

and invisible problems for their intangible fixes.
To hell with your disdain, status quo, empty words,

and your apathy clothed ignorance.

Move!