(Before you read this, just know this can be about anyone, anyone. For even though it seems to match a certain situation, it has nothing, I mean that, NOTHING to do with it at all. If you take this to mean it's about YOU, then you are an EGOISTIC and SENSITIVE person who should probably read the rest of my poems because they are equally melancholy and hold feelings of rage. There are some random ones. This is me getting out feelings of annoyance, rage, frustration and exhaustion and no I do not want to cry. Purely FICTIONAL, FICTIONAL. It's about Mancork being mad at Mancorn, obviously)
Some people are liars
Betrayers, corrupters, and swindlers too
But that is nothing when they lie to your mother too.
The emotion I describe is rage
Pissy, upset, mad
A madness that turns me awfully awfully bad
I want to say that I have been had
It's polite to say
That the bad times outweigh the good
So I'll send flowers and a card
I won't be nice
I will no longer smile and chat
I will be quite blunt
Inside me
Lives a rage
that infuriates me
Give me a razor
To cut off your head
Give me a gun
To shoot your lungs
I wish you had a heart:
You wouldn't have done the things you had done
You teased me
Punished me
Made me feel like I did all the wrong
Unfortunately for you
My punishment had just begun
No more lies
I say what I imply
My trust, if not faded
Has became quite thin
See the anger within
You said I hurt you
Just wait and see
For what that really means
You don't know nothin'
And you don't know me
(And You want to be a know-it-all, ha)
For if I had not walked away
You would have been dead today
Did you tune out?
Did you hear me?
You are a betrayer
A swindler
A codpiece
A heart of tin
A fake
And this is not the end
If you think I need
A friendship like yours
Then you are very wrong indeed
I can stand on my own
But I don't really care anymore
But my punishment for you has yet to end
I will never cease
Not until the pain you have cause
Has disappeared
If you wanted hate
Too bad
I'll give you shame instead
And now can I please
Cut of your head?
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