There are eleven ways to end a man's life.
One is through more conventional means than
Robot bombs from hovering drones.
Two is making him operate the controls.
Three is giving him limitless options
As long as his body is painted in red.
Four is the bullshit you fill in his head.
Five is teaching him how to read words
And telling him that they were written in gold.
Six is the fountain pen getting sold.
Seven is moving him out of harm's way,
Sheltering him from the noblest truth.
Eight is tying the knot of the noose.
Nine is giving him more than he needs
And telling him work can cure his disease.
Ten is letting him soften his knees.
Eleven is letting him make up his mind
And drowning the flower that someone could find.
No comments:
Post a Comment