Son of Ham

I care about echoes, karma, and the butterfly effect.
I assume the worst of my best efforts,
I care for eggs that don’t hatch,
For goldfish that move too fast, for people too kind.
I care for what you think when I do all I have promised in haikus.
I care if your death will be better than mine.
I care that the eyes of the Devil are trained on the pulse of my aorta.
I care about the smile that betrays my forever con.
I care about the flavour of death that will make you fear for fools.
I care for how good the syntax will be in a final death note.
I care if cowards spell in English or Brute.
Nothing but the gospel truth: A razor. A smiling vein. A gas leak.
I care that I will be left here nothing but bird bones and a loose tooth.

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