I don’t even want to talk about it

I didn’t get what do you meant

When you said that you wanted life for free

Cuz it didn’t make sense to me

You’ve still gotta meet responsibilities

Yet you’re dreaming in some realm

Where poverty is yet unknown

But it really ain’t okay

To go another fucking day

Without paying your rent.


You cunt, you prick

You fucking sack of shit

I hope your brain does melt

On all that crack you’re getting smoked.

Fucking loser,

Go get cancer.

Or at least give me a goddamn answer.

And I really hope you read this

You are a fucking tumor

My life is strife.


2 thoughts on “I don’t even want to talk about it

  1. Woah! Super anger here, I can relate to some of the expression here, hoping the antagonists brain melts from drugs, their lack of respect for responsibilities. I wonder how many people like this their are in the world? And where the path will finally take them? Did writing this poem help to give you some insight, or was it in some way cathartic?


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