Luther's Silica Playground

One day in the life of D-23372

So you were grown in vats of greenish liquid,
Or 'rescued' from a sentence on death row,
Then used as bait to trap some unknown cryptid,
But thanks to all the drugs, you'll never know;
And you can't run, because they'll blow your head up;
And you can't hide, because they've got you tagged;
You might get killed, by some Researcher's fuck-up,
And they'll say "Whoops, Accounting will be mad";

On good days you might eat delicious cheeses
Or hang out with a friendly orange blob
The bad days make you weep, and pray to Jesus,
And wish you had a normal boring job.
Sometimes a demon reads you bedtime stories
There's a lizard-thingy full of primal rage,
Most things will make you want to gouge your eyes out
And if you live, you get back in your cage.

They say things like "We're pretty sure it's dormant"
Or "Get in there and poke it with this stick".
Then yet more drugs, to ease your psyche's torment,
And take a shower to wash off all the squick.
So if you last the unforgiving minute,
Without the need to turn or blink your eyes,
Forget today, and all the horrors in it,
At tea-time, D-Class get amnesticized.