There’s a place where life
is never bare of
mice and madness,

Where the world will
come again flogging itself
with delight every step
of the way; made more evil
by men who besiege,
hold prisoners in bonds
of deepest despair;
their love warped
and cruel and rotten
with usury to the core;

Unstable men, mean
mother fuckers users abusers
confusers, bastard misers
thwarted useless pliers
of love with pain,

Scorn hurters, driven
to kill life’s most
precious gift.

Will the end ever
be in sight?


Innocent love will always die
by lies, life’s most
precious gift taken
and destroyed.

They’ll always be the same, no matter …
From summers lost
till spring when
you were me and I and we;

The times we ran together,
we drank our fill never knowing …

There are killers out there
the likes of which
you’ve never seen,

Who lie their likes and dislikes,
who spend their false revenue
so freely to fuel
their selfish lust
with platitdes of
loneliness and