There are times in life
When I’m literally loath
Before the idea of
Doing the right thing
.
And though that might seem a little extreme
And perhaps misanthropic,
It’s an inkling I have nonetheless because
.
A being which always does the right thing
Is essentially dead — it bespeaks automation
And a robotic mentality
To never explore the decadent realm
Of fu**ing up and especially,
.
What a malady it would be
If we were all immortal, if
We were wedged eternally
In this life, doing right and
Hugging the median
On the railroad tracks.