We could not teach you love.

We tried but you broke us

We could not make our value stick

You had no way, Dead Boy
What hell or fucked fit frothed you mind

To such shame and depravity?

Let me give a little advice for anyone who’s mind fucks them to kill innocent people. Don’t listen. I’m glad I could cure that up for you.

Trust me.
It’s easier not to do
something than doing it.

None of your people think you, Dead Boys, are awesome. The people think the worst of you
You always go after innocence, beautiful little childern with big smiles, stunning women with long legs and good hard working fathers wearing blue jeans. It’s never some wacko sick son of bitch that deserves it

It has no honor. Only agony and disgust deep down thick puking repulsion so hard the people are hopeful for hell and to be there to see you in it

Author: annieepoetry

I am poet. I am woman. I write with my thumbs. Read my poems. Tell me what You think. You may find the love poem you always thought someone wrote for you. Or the one you meant to write But Becareful lovers tell zingers and often break hearts Milky Way Earth U.S.A Madison WI

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