Email Poem

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Poem

I am not the meat you supposed I am, so you have began
Believing your own lies, and now will starve as punishment
Nothing pure can comply with your greed, each strand
Of hunger is ready to tell the filth of your predicament 

Riled, they do their malicious best, and you with them
Your coarse tongue daggers a Ceasar's back, and yet
I will not spew bile nor boast a cankerous phlegm
Maggots are all too unworthy of my worthiest regret.

Cast still then from asp anguish your venom wrath
I will not bow, and being unbent cannot surrender
To the frantic froth of spurious gossip, my path
Much better will not condescend character to so blunder

You being pigs that root in putrid muck and trash
Will know no better than to invent fiends like your passion
As if to mould me to that, demonic vipers so rash
Has not comprehended how I laugh vanity in derision.

Nor how each anger spread to one, since none obtain
Enough of truth or pedigree to win the attention sought
So now I endure beyond hell's fury the scorn of pain
And yet so worthless your piled up envy I'm not distraught

For lies may puff you like a bloated adder to be seen
But your greater falsehood is your lack of spine, I know
Your wretched lives only find meaning being gladly mean
But truth outlast all misery, your lies will be your own death blow.

(THOUGHTS IN PROGRESS, TO BE EDITED AND COMPLETED)

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