Ah damn this, I tried to give up all my vices and no matter whatever I delete it does not dissappear.
I'd just left the house and within three steps I had encountered a cunt,
not your average cunt but a renowned cunt owning a massive clearance
on the slope of a mountain unrenowned for its peace, but plauged by infection.
He, being an average cunt occured as was his want an indiscretion
carefully adjudicated by his lord in which I can only adjust a sponge apon my bleeding
but, alas he could not, as an animal, be the average cunt.
Mediocrity is merely a piss-ant reason for gathering food to please the queen
'tis shame my wings were clipped away at birth
I cannot even fly, I have neither the courage to breathe your poison
my wings are merely laden with the weight of your insidious whining.
It provides little opportunity for me to paddle my boat
it gives you every opportunity to drown me
but I have a finger circling your excited zone that you open
like an envelope expecting good feelings.
But beware your indiscretions and cover your womb
you are not at all what you wish you to be
you are not me.
Please bleed and suffer all around your mound
you do not care for the obscenity you are, you struggle to breathe
you cease to feed and you grasp for your last suck of air.
That is what you are, you pathetic suffering cunt.