A warrior species,
our mortal enemy is ourselves;
denying others
what we for ourselves demand.
We seize our captives,
strip them of their rights
their humanity
and sentence them to a slow death
by cubicle and crippling debt,
by maximizing profit
above their ability to pay,
slowly starving them in body and spirit
until all that remains are docile drones
hollow human husks.
-
Author:
Fränz Müller (
Offline) - Published: May 28th, 2026 10:47
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 36
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, RSM0812
Offline)
Comments4
such a true and observant write on social injustice
A surreal poem of metaphor that speaks of our hollowness. Well done
Fränz, this is sharp, angry, and unflinching. I like how the poem broadens the idea of violence beyond physical harm and points toward the quieter ways people can be diminished and consumed. Powerful work, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you Tristan!
Reminds me of current war in the world. Unnecessary and regretable. Machines of death.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.