I have a case of bad fungus,
My breath smells like I am rotting alive.
I see on both sides of the tongue,
A nursery of fiendish hives.
My drool is thick like diarrhea,
You'd think I'm chewing shit.
The hate around congratulates itself,
A potpourri of stench to fit.
A grinning loon, a sketched cartoon,
I'm nevertheless interested to end this life.
I stand on the melted fence where
Reality is stabbed by an unreal knife.
The shallow world of selfish trolls,
The shamelessly crude idea of sin.
How convenient that I should now die,
News that would delight my kin.
The sky I will curse to fail,
And suffocate the lives of men.
My life if lived would've prevented it,
But I'm an outcast and heathen.
Every cell after I'm gone,
As millions of weapons rolled.
They'll punctuate in puncture wounds,
Return the mistreatment a million fold.
