a poem in white text on dark gray background

Integrity Speaks to Lack of Conscience

What's it like to be 
a steamroller

Going about crushing 
Never looking, just rolling 

What's it like to be 
so heavy——messy engine   
mucking up the lot

My, how your fuel tank 
digests purity 
to reckless abandon  

Where, as a tool you
with dull aim, ruin  

What’s it like to feel
like a dull tool, or 
do you escape yourself

4 thoughts on “Integrity Speaks to Lack of Conscience”

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