There is no shame in luxury, or laziness or sloth
When the time to practise them is wise, and benefits you both.
We work and slave and struggle so to keep our basic things
For we deserve everything, all riches owned by kings,
And yet not a scrap of bread nor the right for it to sing,
For we have eaten when others starved,
And lived while others died,
And the honest sent to the chopping block
While we escaped and lied.
There is no earning, no reward, no deserving what we make,
No difference between what we give and what we really take.
Struggle has no meaning other than that to survive,
And in the act of struggling we forget just how to live.
Struggle is for status, and status is for fools,
For in my life’s Swiss Army knife, it’s the silliest of tools.
Every action that you take
Make conscious and with love,
For evil is not in the vice
But intemperance thereof.

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