My people love me,
They tell me things I want to hear,
They give me back rubs when my structure aches,
They offer me drinks that my stomach can’t take,
They make me feel whole again.
My people care for me,
Their advice resembles prattle about being free and unbridled,
They talk my enemies down and cast a harsh hand when needed,
They still accept me when their relational suggestions aren’t heeded,
They pronounce my individuality.
My people know me,
They compliment my stupid chooses,
They guide me in their direction,
They hold me when I cry,
They prate on about their hatred for man,
They embrace me when men avoid me,
They make me feel smart.
My people are idiots,
They avoid fruitful traditions,
They try to mix me with stupidity,
They toggle with their beliefs,
They’re completely passionate about the temporary with no insight of permanent,
They speak kindly to idiocy and harshly to truth,
They know only of opinion and nothing of fact,
They strive to keep me single and miserable so they can feel higher about themselves,
They can’t enjoy the silence,
And are incredibly dense,
Those people are toxic.