occupysex

We're straight,

We hate,

For we alone can mate.

We date,

We wait,

We give it up too late.

Our state

Is fate

Desires are innate.

How great,

This plate,

This ever solid-state.

Morals we create,

Not open to debate,

Our judgments operate,

Inhibiting free state.

You must participate,

For failure, we berate.

Our fallacies carry weight

Down fall the logic gates,

The masses' growing rate

A thousand men to eight.

Attacking, heading straight 

Minority's estate

Let's reevaluate

Majority's true rate

Young, white, male, able, straight,

Percentage now deflates.

Minority dilates,

Ideals they reinstate,

With causes they equate

No hero wise and great,

But that which they create,

When small and weak relate.