Goodevening Slave Species

''Well hello my woofull subjects''
''Goodevening our lord and master''
We say with bending knees and praying hands
As the whips of our masters
Criss cross our backs
So that we work harder
Faster
Longer
...Cheaper
Crossing foreign palms with money
So as to fuel a machine
where we are the cogs
and the government
Is the lazy mechanic
Who has engorged himself
On the succulant donuts of civilization
And sits and watches as we the COGS...
Rust away into a lonely
Unmeandable MESS
And we will be left to grind and carve
Into one another as on and on
Our bestowed mechanic
Is replaced and replicated
By the next that follows
and forever on we turn and turn
only ever dwelling more into disrepair
BUT I SAY NO MORE
For we are not a machine to be left to die
Breaking point has been reached
and we are at critical mass
And we shall send shrapnel in all directions
Piercing the silly skull of our hopeless leader
Our lord and master
We are no longer COGS in the machine
We are no longer
The Slave Species !!!

Dale Innes Wylde Hughes