The Hairy Misanthropes

How doth the hairy misanthropes

Plot and plunder the fun from my life

Mistrust and disdain are their wary bedfellows

How dare the hairy misanthropes

Trample upon my sparkle and joy

With such glee and alarming regularity

BUT Why?  I ask with a genuine confusion

They blame such naivety on my delusions

Their answer is always that “Life Is Hard”

For such is the belief of these massive fucktards

(sorry – I mean “misanthropes”, obviously)

So why do those hairy misanthropes

Spread their gloom and despair, like birdshit in my hair

At every turn, weaving their terrible way through my dreams?

It is simply because those hairy misanthropes

Have nothing of their own they did not steal from those like me

Have no dreams,  no joy and, most telling, no integrity.

So when troubled by your own particular Hairy Misanthrope

I’m thinking that this knowledge might present a spark of hope

Remember that, try as they might, they themselves can never be

Creative, fresh and vibrant

Hopeful and ebullient

Friendly, trusting, dare I say

Genuine and nice in our own way

and .... (we can say it proudly)

WITH  our  Integ    ri      ty.

By me.  Fuck you, Hairy Misanthropes.