Timothy Lawton

11/16/1996
Civilization you beast of a word
Calculated barbarism
A monster with a mind
Your teeth have been forgotten
Your claws are misunderstood
Again you are a gentleman
Again we hear the calls of the strong should survive
To the weak let them slither and writhe
They are a cancer on your fair body
A tear in your ceremonial uniform
And most of all civilization you have learned how not to appear a beast
No, you will come again as a lamb
A lamb in statesman’s clothing
I don’t know your name, but I talk about you every day
I don’t know your face, yet I’ve seen your hands shaping the world for sometime
And I’ll know who you are if I see you
You will be revered as the essence of civilization
The one with the ideal
The mind of the monster plan
Your teeth will be seen as pearls
And your claws will be concealed
You will be made the leader
The strong will be of the future
Disciplined and erudite
The weak will be of the past
Superstitious and deserving to die
The cancer of spiritual conscience in your material world
Where the beast is seen as a statesman
And a monster made of the lamb