Order black or white, with or without chilli,
It all costs the same.
And so do we.
We were all born at the same cost.
An act of love making.
Regardless of how black the carrot cake it is,
Or how much is strewn across its face,
Or how dirty filthy unclean it looks,
Slice it apart and you'll see
The inside is still as virginal white as
It was born to be.
Aren't we all like that too?
That, inside of us, we will have a certain
Goodness, of some sorts.
That deep down within us,
We are all good people.
Despite our visible blemishes
Or worthless tastelessness,
We are all white inside.
Maybe not fully pure
Not fully clean
Not fully wholesome.
Tarnished by years of filth.
But there will still exist a fragment.
And it is this fragment that is heavily
Attached and desired by
Houseflies seeking a meal.
Don't you think so?
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