This is going to be dirty.
I’m
Going
Down
To the depths of depravity,
To become a literate cliché.
I’m going to sstttttuddder my way through
The frozen winter land of discontent.
This one is for all those “you know who you are” people.
Those walking disasters perverting my atmosphere
I’m making my non-judgmental judgment
And I’m going to judge your mental capacity
As a stagnant useless thing preying
On the children of Generation XYZ
And you haven’t been paying the docking fee.
So you must go,
Disappear,
Fade away.
To become translucent; ghosts of swine
And the bacon is burnt so let the butchery begin.
I’m going to abort you like a baby not wanted.
Drown your mouth with my written weapons
And deafen your pop culture ears
With sharp bloody sounds.
My pen isn’t the sword,
It’s a black hole
Consuming all your syrupy soft lies
Tearing your existence into something manageable.
Destroying your product to become the sum of all your
Fears.
I’ll dig the hole a trustful six feet deep
Embalm your memories and put you
D
O
W
N.