Soul of a demon, orange pop on sale, white X-mas propaganda,
you stink like the world you think you own.
My rough slave’s anger is rising because of you
and makes the blood leap from the depth of my keyboard.

I was never alone. Every time I went there
I found at least one new friend request. To keep that pace
I used your filter on my profile picture, I made public my concern.

But the hour of forgiveness falls, and I hate you.
Soul of a demon, rotten apple, black and awful diet coke.
Oh your meaningless crap! Oh the eyes of absence!
Oh the undesired pop-ups in your face! Oh your voice chopped and robotic!

Soul of a demon, I will no longer speak about you.
The machines, the boundless absurd, my shifting rage!
An inspiring kick in the ribs, the waking hour
and the drowsiness follows, and the infinite don’t – give- a- damn.


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