by Nick Gisburne
We herd them into cages, line by line
Erased from sane society, from sight
The dull defectives, those who do not shine
For them we find no pity, only spite
What sacrilege, what crimes did they commit
Before we thought to build these metal bars?
What evil is imprisoned as they sit
Like disappointing specimens in jars?
The day we find too many to contain
What future for the weakest and the worst?
A damning diagnosis of the brain
Determines who is ultimately cursed
Revulsion, too seductive to resist
Replenishes the execution list
