Who Or What Is It

I don’t know who you are but I think I hate you for this; I’ve spent my whole life asking why; Why does it have to be like this? I think it might be you; but why. I mean I know it’s your nature; You apparently chose to mess with the power that is; But why do you have to be here where we’re all at? I think we’ve been paying since the beginning of time. I hate you for it; I hate the whole idea; How is this fair? Life isn’t fair; that must be it. Religion says strive to be fair; Society tells us work on being fair; Meanwhile it is advised I keep my enemy close; It’s not only unfair but it’s not nice. Ah speaking of nice; From what I can tell; The one thing I know about nice is; Nice is having a bowel movement I guess I’m to ask for forgiveness; But forgive me if life has a constipating effect And oh that smell; the smell of it surrounds you; Oh did I make a boo-boo no that is a boo boo. I was a pacifist once; a long time ago; Everybody picked on me; everywhere I went; It was embarrassing not to stand up for myself; So what; I’m not supposed to be angry now and want to fight? Ok I’m not supposed to hate; But it’s real hard to be happy; And if I had any chance at all; I’d call your punk ass out.