We often think we’re in the right,
The other side forever wrong.
Our feelings swear we hold the light,
Hurt only when we’re cruelly wronged.
But life’s not just a clash of rights,
Nor battles carved in black and white.
It’s our truth against their truth’s might,
Two sides of one coin, both justified.
The head and tail know what they are,
Yet we cling to our chosen star.
We lobby for the “right” with flair,
Spinning biased tales to share.
The battle’s won by sympathy gained,
A rush for yeas, while nays are pained.
An archaic game, yet it holds sway
The best story triumphs most days.
The victor and victim, fused in one,
The smooth talker’s story becomes the sun.
But our conscience bears the deeper cost,
While society rots from vermin we’ve tossed.
This fact I’ve studied, honed precise,
My ego’s pride, a cold device.
A diss to all I dare defy
Why plead my worth to those nearby?
Why let my conviction be shaped by lies,
Or weighed by tears in strangers’ eyes?
I’m too selfish to grant the mob
The power to judge what I’ve wrought.
My stance is mine, unyielding, free,
Though the world would chain my fist to be.
My middle finger breaks its cage,
A torch against their shadowed rage.
