| The Life of the Unwanted |
| The Life of the Unwanted Death to the masses True pain in the asses They suck the soul Out your eyes and ears By what you hear It�s all too clear The game they play A true shame that they Would tempt to take What is sweeter than cake Yet lighter than feathers And thinner than air It�s not fair But all too clear The game they play True shame that they But you can retort With stock and barrel And bullets so narrow They pass through the temple Of the masses True pain in the asses You release their souls But then you do What they tempted to you And throw your-self to A molten realm and The evil man with The spiky helm And burn by fire As you conspire What sweet release it was� by Kyler St. Clair |
| This is the first poem that I didn't use breaks. I couldn't think of a pattern. Most of my poems ar ABABC but this is just consistent. I like it. I wrote it during history. Pure boredom... Usually the class is a little fun, but not today. At least the teacher tries. I hope you like this one. Enjoy. |
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