Gross consumption

Food tastes so much better when

You're hungry, so the hungry say,

So there are those who starve themselves,

Greed for the future imminent,

And wind up going past the point

Of being hungry anymore,

Instead of savoring the privileged taste

That comes from a more humble, honest need

By forcing gross want into its place,

Distorting nature to an extent

That once the body's own defense

Relinquishes, and can no longer hold

Onto what it's fooled itself to think,

It grows into violent pretense;

One which consumes unmercifully

Both subject and object.

And with a misplaced vengeance, while

The original thing, gently desired,

Without fault then bears the blame,

The who, wrapped in one's own arrogance,

Must then destroy the entire thing, 

With self included.

One who can't tell the difference

Between oneself and the more one seeks,

And more, and more, unending, and forgetting then

The one thin line, that which can tell

Distinction selflessly implied

Between the path that's criminal

And the ever-dying, empathic one that

More and more stands extinguished by the

Societal, distorted, perverse incline

Toward that which seeks always

To destroy

That necessary sense of balance
That could exist,
But both then die.