I asked my friend and await his reply
he could not answer and I'd like to know why, was it death or another.
If he is gone please employ a suitable replacement that can at least adjust the ledger, maybe one who can add and detract, one who can spell and talk and just walk with me.
My legs are in surgery and they may never recover from the purpose of kicking shit along hallways.
Dreams only become a daymare escaping me from night, stretches of blood staining my progress.
And he as a friend did what, or did not and I will gladly carry the burden of his insignificance to his grave.
Forgive him Lord for he was to me, a pathetic soul bagaging demons to be strong.
Alas the poor cunt kept on bleeding until the puss and pain flowed through his cell and nought a bandage to his soul did it be 'cept a partial remedy.
Oh mercifull god you are not, yet you sacrifice your son to appease your aggressors and display your submission.
Why were you not there, was it too hard to attend, or were you fucking virgins for blood.
You are a slut to wisdom and not caring of administering your wrath to those who deserve it, you found it necessary to watch your son die wearing a nappy.
And I suffer your dispense.