Retract your offending mold.
I am not malleable.
For I am of the unchanging.
Uncompromising, independent.
I am of the We.
Pavlov’s dog is dead.
The good doctor vainly searches
For another specimen.
He won’t find one in me.
I heed not air-conditioned directorates,
They stink of greeded rot.
A pox on your sophistry,
On your mundane meritocracy.
Your time is come,
It is We who shall bring you down.
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