Ask for my story.
I’ll hand it in a casket
and you’ll take it to the grave;
Or even a pawn shop,
where you’ll make a living
out of my porcelain words.
But first, let me wrap it up in a
carmine cast of my withered
the bow, I’ll lace it with vervain.
I’m caustic to the bone,
a wind up doll
ready to explode.
Baby you’re a quick
fuck but I’m a bucking bronco,
and I’ll bang you back home.
You’re lamenting on the endings,
but here we are again,
waiting for that final bong to
blow me out a tick tock tune like-
will you light my final spliff, friend?
I’m the sucker punch to the gut,
the crack in the nuts,
and best of all I can never be snuffed.
So when I can be assed to
break with a laugh
(hahaha oh how i’ll laugh)
remember this: I’m part of history
in a wonderland world of ignominy
and regret, but i’m sure to beset
the minds of the millions in years to come
and then who will have won, when my memory
remains and the disdain is sustained?
*Well done 2016*