Calling yourself food in a herd of cows

As a kid I wanted a toy I could break as many times as I wanted it to.
To sum the rest up
The devil will not know which memories he would pick as my worst.
Let’s assume I became a part of a number higher than average known personalities.
A poet, an artist;
maybe I just end up dead in a puddle of my own blood
in german we call them self murderer; not a suicide victim at all.
Here you are what you make of it.
Being a victim
is something a weak person would have claimed
to be here
but that was years before
and back then
he would have been ridiculed for it.
But after all
American ideas creep into European Affairs
In the end the meat grinder
probably got us all
it was fair and just;
maybe it was just nostalgia
for times when I felt weaker
and others still made the effort to hold me down.
What a cosy time to be alive it is.
I can’t wait what path we get lead down.
First they forbid biting,
which is not happening,
then they take our teeth,
because resisting the urge
is too much to ask of a mature being
and instead of accepting that it is happening,
as long as we don’t replace ourselves with machines,
that the ugly parts of love
are just left out for the convenience of fairy tales.
Emotions us much as they can make you strong
they can also more likely make you weak.
and this
seems to solely depend
from which place they are coming from.  

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