A short poem.
NONEXISTANT EMOTIONAL GRADIENT
Your pain doesn't pain me
And it doesn't mean I'm insane
For if I'm to live another day
There can be no sympathy
Death doesn't phase me
Seeing you on your deathbed
And I'll react as if you simply told me it's raining
I just don't have the capacity to care
And you wanna ask why, but you don't dare
How does one come to be
A demon, born unto sheep?
How does one come to be
A demon, born unto sheep?
A demon, with nothing greed
My nonexistant emotional gradient
None can stand, but you'll never hear 'em saying it
'Cause they'd like to see some humanity in me
But I'm afraid they're looking for something that cannot be
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