Dog words.

What is this?
This Lazy excuse for art?
A mumbling monotone voice that could not permeate the mind of a sieve even if it spoke in liquid form.
Eyes drawn meekly to a sheet of paper like a beaten dog.
It stares at it’s master with understanding eyes, but no comprehension of the meaning of the sounds, agreeing to every lack lust gesture and slack handed metaphor that is thrown airily into the room.
The point is so complex, but not out of necessity, but elitism, egotism and any other bullshit reason you could care to fill a gym sock with.
Stand up and fill my heart with love, with anger, with anything!
Make me hate you or make me care, but do not bore me.
You offend yourself and you offend the dead
Your words are bile, this lazy excuse for art.

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