Eternal critic, cynic, skeptic too,
The nihilist is like no other man,
He sees but little good, his likes are few,
Yet he is perfect, his own greatest fan.
He pillories the fools who work for change,
What is the point when all is in decay?
Philanthropy he sees as something strange,
Who but a cretin gives his wealth away
Unless he gains something material?
Nice guys he treats with scorn, complete contempt,
No one escapes his slight and ridicule,
None but himself will ever be exempt
From barbs and criticism most severe,
For he is judge and jury, grave, austere.
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