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Corrupted Sensitivity
Shout your reasons and bellow your lies;
such noises cannot enter my eyes.
My vision is blurred, but I see you so clear,
regardless of what you may wish me to hear.
Sob your sadness or growl your dispute,
my worries for you will still be minute.
My ears have a ring from the sound of your voice,
to listen to you is no longer a choice.
Reach out a hand to grab at my palm,
in an attempt to sing out your pettiest qualm.
My digits are numb from counting your woes
or maybe more so from counting your foes.
Cry out your grief and choke on your tears,
your pain is no more than that of your peers.
Words with arsenic so heavily laced;
your presence has left the most bitter of tastes.
Sniffle a bit and go blow your nose,
it's better than blowing what you previously chose.
The scent of rot rises from deep in your soul,
which you give out as if it were dole.
My senses all hum with the muck that you spread-
you should study more carefully where it is that you tread.
Your tracks are laid out in the filth on the ground,
at least I now know which path not to go down.
