Life of A Shampoo

I am destiny from man's desire to clean.
I am filtrate from all those belonging to queen.
I am manufactured, unlike vegetation's green.
I am understanding of man's selfish in-between.
I am ranting out my anger, just like a teen.
I am not God's cuisine!
I am from man who've foreseen!

I am "naturally shine" yet I'm made from machine!
I am abused in a human cleansing routine.
I am exposed to hair colours so obscene.
I am wondering my use for a hair of benzene!
I am forever dirtied, as I am without spleen.
I am not God's cuisine!
I am from man who've foreseen!

You are just shampoo, you are man-made.
You are to follow the guide of man's blade.
You are to be bartered by force or trade.
You are disposable, no matter how much you prayed.
You are just there to wash, never a first-aid.
You are not God's brigade!
You are part of selfish man's parade!

You are a product after countless are surveyed.
You are to serve under human's masquerade.
You are worthless and alike a broken grenade.
You are like the others, like all those NSAIDs.
You are without identity, and you are afraid.
You are not God's brigade!
You are part of selfish man's parade!

I am just shampoo.
I've no choice.
I was born shampoo.
I will die shampoo.
I've no choice.
Why can't I be man who has a voice?
WHY CAN'T I BE MAN WHO HAS A VOICE?