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| Morbid Poem (C) to Stephanie Beck, 2001 Whirling Twirling Twisting screaming blood sperling voices screaming bullets flying people dying people crying bodies lying tears of grieving not beliecving now they're seeing who was being Petty? not me don't you see I did this deed they planted the seed All their money and greed their addiction to weed that lustful need it was them not me I've done well Can't you tell Now their in hell forever to dwell while I sit in my cell abhoring the smell I tell my tale from my hell And I pray you see It was them, not me! No peoples, I'm not really insane. And I would never do this, and I was just reallly pissed off, and needed to vent, and after I wrote it, I thought about Colombine. and all those lots in this tradegy. I'm sorry to all those affected. I konw what it's like to lose a friend, and I can't even begin to immagine what it must feel like to lose so many. I'm sorry. |
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