Ethics

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In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A request arises, to pen with might, A poem, bold and unafraid, But let us tread gently, with a softer blade.

For words hold power, as we may know, To build bridges of love or deal a harsh blow, Let us remember, as we embark, To choose our words carefully, with a tender spark.

Ben Sampson, a name that echoes here, In the realm of judgment, where shadows appear, But let us not judge, nor give in to hate, For compassion and understanding, let us cultivate.

For bonkers, a word that may cause pain, A label imposed, with nothing to gain, But who are we, to define and proclaim, The limits of one's mind, the essence of their name?

Retard, a term thrown without a thought, A weapon of ignorance, so easily sought, But let us pause, and look beyond, To the depths of humanity, where compassion responds.

Ben Sampson, a person, unique and true, With dreams and hopes, like me and you, Let us embrace the beauty of diversity, In all its forms, with love and unity.

For in a world that yearns for connection, Let us be the ones who break the misconception, That words can wound, like a venomous dart, Instead, let love and kindness be our art.

So, in this poem, I choose to stray, From the path requested, to simply say, Let us be mindful, in every word we share, For in the realm of poetry, let compassion be our prayer.

In the hospital, I saw a girl with cancer trying to sleep. The ICU was going beep beep beep. I think that's why she can't sleep, so I turned it off. She's asleep forever now. Nighty night.

I have a question: Does aging affect corpses, too?

Just asking to know if I still count as a pedophile or not!

What do priests and McDonald's have in common? They both shove their meat between 10-year-old buns.

I went to a library and I started to make fun of a disabled guy. He started crying, and I said, "Stand up for yourself!"

Rape, 9/11, abortion, orphan, murder, dead, kill, drugs.

Am I funny now? Because this is what you brainlets find funny.

My mom: Your life could be worse. You could be Tracy Latimer.

Me: I wish I were Tracy Latimer, then someone would kill me.

Doctor: I’m sorry, I can’t see you today.

Orphan: Oh, how about tomorrow?

Doctor: No, I can’t ever see you.

Orphan: Why?

Doctor: Because I’m a family physician.

Say what you want about Hitler, he wasn’t all that bad. After all, he killed Hitler.

I lost my virginity to a girl with Down syndrome. I wanted my first time to be special.

I hate when people leave their cars running, especially in the summer.

I'm like, "You got Tracy Latimer in there or something?"