Man, woman, we criticize -
such odd, goofy hair today,
what a look! why you look at me . . .? ,
you just don't understand how . . . ,
(and you never will) ! -

and find ourselves in a crowd, by ourselves,
not because we broke, but were broken in,
subtly - quick! what's . . . ,
oh, did she say that, what a . . . ,
you like your job, Crandall? (whoever) -
subtle by steps, month by month, by year,
until we're ready for what? - to criticize,
what's wrong
(cause we'd never tire all at once;
 they didn't break us so easily.).

So - what's wrong?
Because it is, and nothing more,
when we classify us out of existence -
for none is so interchangeable,
though none is really so important, true;
but if not blessed, but who could be -
and wonder why we're self-absorbed,
clutching identity, dignity, humanity,
because we are always criticized,
by power, and arrogance, and laziness.

And who says - no more!!
Who would dare?
Who would listen, and take the time,
and work at it, and unlearn so much?
We present ourselves for inspection
ready to answer by God,
when it fails, which is almost comforting;
and it doesn't end there - it can't.

It's because I didn't take the test?
Well I want another - we'll write another!
whatever is best, and not from day to day.
It's better out there than it is,
because superficiality is just shock,
and I know better, if I act like it,
diversified, yet in unity, not squalor
(that comfortably ignorant in thought,
  in word,
  and per par 4, line 8, see above).