The Ego of Man
The Ego of Man This ego, this thing, this voice that pleasures in the destruction of self. It whispers with naive tendencies. It tells you to hide, when you are shy. It speaks that you are to weak, to frail to speak up, that doing so, you will look a fool. That you will become the outcast like a lame child to war. This ego, it inflates the ideals of man. Pleasuring it self with pain, or the eccentric greed of flesh. Telling one to dress in attire to be presentable when one is working to sweat. It tells the fragile ego of a man, to strain himself, though injury may incur. It tells the woman, her hair is one inch too short, one inch too long. No man will adore such a look, change it quick. It tells the woman, that her make up is too much, to little. It tells them to look pretty, though she already is. This ego, it pulls the heart of man, like oceans pulled by the moon. Often it spreads itself like a virus, undetected, recognized as a simple protein of the body. Only later, t...