Poem -
Dead Beat
Dead beat, go with the blow.
Just stand still or your backbone will show.
Dead Beat, don't understand why?
Someone you love, loves to see you cry?
Dead Beat, pathetic b*tch,
Run away and hide in the ditch.
Dead Beat, how's the receiving end?
No way to cope, no way to defend.
Dead Beat just rip out your hair.
Rip till your bald, no one will stare.
Dead Beat put an end to the pain,
And put a bullet straight through your brain.
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Comments
I keep coming back to your edgy, brilliant poems, Amanda (fresh as summer roses) I'm getting some kind of poetry Nirvana reading your stuff, so thanks....the wording in this one is so dark and tasty, love it, reads like a twisted nursery rhyme....back in the days of the 'Black Death' or the Plague when death was everywhere, children made up a nursery rhyme 'ring around the rosie...pocket full of posies...' your poem reads as a mocking rebuke of some tragic circumstance....honestly, it's really quite brilliant how it comes across....terrific stuff, poet
Thank you! I like your take on it! My rhymes as quite as subtle as ones from the days of old, but that is a very high compliment!