Like the filthy bird descends on any,
Rotting carcass, the dead, the many,
Who lived once, caused a freedom stir,
But now her blood clots, settles inside her,
Just above the ground, inside bloated remains.
Covered with flies, maggots eating the veins.
Animal or human—it eats any and all.
And with its beak rips through the wall,
Of dead skin to cut into the muscle, veins and fat,
And organs, bone; her stale blood feeds the rat.
Takes and eats at will; it’s never enough.
Like the filthy bird rips, tears to eat the stuff—
Eyeballs, brains and organs—must start,
To eat her dead organs—dead liver, dead heart.
No longer a kidney or bladder but a dead filet—
A rainbow of color, perfumed, the odor of decay.
The people barely audible in thought, unable by design or unwilling,
To work their way but rather want it all anyway. Take to the swilling!
And swallow it all for they owe you, you think.
You hate us and think not of us or the cesspool stink!
Those who desire the full measure of joy, rip it away, every day.
As long as someone else pays less protest, in silence must stay.
Mouthful of tissue out of her body, biting before a deeper plunge.
Defecates back is all, is all. Like filthy birds taking the final lunge,
Into her soft tissue, ripping away to swallow even the sinew,
And the blood, liver; people of little conscience heartily do.
Tear her fibers and swallow to fill. No thought of tomorrow,
No love for the children that are made by them, left in sorrow.
Prey on men of good will.
While they work and till,
To help those in need.
These ones though—an entitled seed!
And who says they are owed from me and you?
Lying men say it’s because they are, they’re due.
That’s all—some audible says it must be too.
And dare you expect even the first thank you?
No.
Andy Huddleston's Blog 