Persona non grata
It’s hard not to become cynical
when everything has been grown just for you
To accommodate you
To cater to you
To be your dog
(Your favorite breed of course)
To bring you your slippers
(In the exact color you want, fuzzy for your cold blood)
Your world is created for you, just the way you like it
It’s hard not to be cynical.
It's hard not to be
that this reality
Is anything actual
When the humans(?)
that have commanded and coerced
Their bulk in front of you
Somehow deciding that it’s their obligation to raise you
Although you thought you were a grown now, could make your own qualified decisions.
And the government make the worst parents ever.
Like the mom who swindled the Girl Scout money
Except exponentially more horrible,
the kind of people who should never be parents, the ones whose children need rescuing from,
The ones who lie and teach their impressionable charges to murder
and devalue life, pour on the guilt trip, even, and mete out punishments for the disobedience
And then imprison and shame you
For learning what you have been taught
And then somehow it’s wrong,
If you follow their rules without being lead by their own appointed human
And since you were in a different location
And weren’t wearing the designated outfit,
All of a sudden now, it’s not okay,
And you are a monster, a sick excuse for a human being,
And all you were doing was what they had taught you to do.
It’s hard not to be skeptical.