CRUEL

CRUEL IS THE WORD, I LIKE THE MOST
LIKE BURNING ONE'S HAND INSIDE TOAST.
I LIKE TO SEE BLOOD STAINS
UNFORTUNATELY WASHES OUT IN RAINS.

I LOVE TO SEE PEOPLE DIE
AND FEEL PITY ON RETARDS WHO CRY. (COZ WHY TO CRY... GONE MEANS GONE)
PEOPLE COMMIT MANY CRIMES
LIKE THIS POEM WITH RHYME.

I HAVE LIVED IN DARK AGES
WORKING FOR HOURS WITHOUT WAGES.
MY HEART IS NOW BLACK
GOOD MEMORIES PUT ASIDE IN A SACK.

I HAVE BECOME CRUEL AND BAD
LIKE A PSYCHO, INNOCENT YET MAD.
I MAY BE A MAN WITHOUT SOUL
BUT NEED TO PROCEED TOWARDS MY GOAL.

I HAVE SEEN EVERY DARK SIDE
NOW ALL I NEED IS A NEW LIFE WITH A GUIDE.