Treasure Island

Mark R Slaughter


Hate


Hate has burned a gaping hole;
The rancid reek of charring flesh
Is dancing on my very soul.
And as the rising fumes enmesh
My crumpled heart, I play the role
Of crabby fart, gassing off
A diatribe, bleeding out a
Bitter part: an ugly twisted man.


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009










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Hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate
Hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate
Hate hate hate hate hate hate hate
Hate hate hate hate hate hate
Hate hate hate hate hate
Hate hate hate hate
Hate hate hate
Hate hate
Hate

Submitted: Saturday, October 31, 2009
Edited: Wednesday, May 11, 2011

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