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|To Hell (standard:poetry, 209 words)|
|Author: Brad Coonto||Added: Dec 23 2003||Views/Reads: 1894/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|What Christmas and these votes mean to me. I apologise for the anger contained within this work. Again, this is for Debs.|
Christmas is a SILENT NIGHT This time. Why? Beacause I've been used again. And spat out AGAIN!!! HARK, THE HERALD ANGEL SINGS??? Yeah, right. Disolute withstanding? For I shall defecate sponges into her eyes. "How could you do this to me?" "Why at this time of year?" That's what I asked, anyway. Yes. I have been arrant. For I hate her. I hate her for how she has treated me... At the Yule. I'll be lying in my cot, holding your discharged pillow And I shall scream your fucking name Until... Until... Until I DREAM OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS??? I hate the profanities as much as I despise you, you bitch! You force me to curse and to bear my soul to those I do not And shall not Ever know. And it all began because I was upset that A FACELESS PHILISTINE gave A poem Of mine One out of Ten, and you, D, had the audacity to charge me With misogyny? Is that fair? Is it? D, I don't think YOU'RE being fair. Why are people cruel? Why? And at Christmas. To Hell With Christmas. Votes wash over me with elongated spite. Opinions are cruel, And they know who they are. To Hell, I say. To Hell. Tweet
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