Poem -
HATE.
To bare a weight of forgotten time, only talked of in archaic myth. From yolk of the shoulder, to no more then a finger; I clean my hands of such ill riddled smut.
To look down, downward, glad! Happy! The despair is not mine to keep. Time for me is a well needed rest, but, for you time is coming to reap!
Clean are my hands! Downward I stare! Forever for you! Damned in anticipating hell!
I ask not of god to take what hes gifted. To much! So many! All ready fallen from grace.
contempt and despise are all that remain. Soon to be a bad memory built solely on hate.
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Comments
What a bunch of shit you're full of Handi Capp.Β Careful or I may reveal you completely.
.barto.
You rate my poem with 20% of the total 100% available, you could of left your crappy pun without giving my poem a rating at all, like most people would. On top of that you are very poor at punctuation. Go back to school.
Your pathetic threats mean less than your rating of my poem, to me. Clown.
Go play important to your followers and try find a concept of common sense.
I'd give your merit-less threat 0 out of 100 and do.
Capp that.