Email Poem

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Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

you crossed me
 that did it
 you insulted my intelligence
 Critics
 yet who are they really anyways ?
 you live behind four walls that close in
 it's too late you blew it
 my pride is on the floor 
 lest I implore more
 but that of what
 a challenge to be free is a quest of time
 you gave me the middle finger
 just remember there's four fingers pointing right back at you
 have I bitten off far more then I could chew ?

 Now your messing with a son of a bitch
 give you another lousy dish
 you tend to sweep things underneath the rug
 no sense of remorse from me & no love
 you bit & devour with viscous fangs that bite dripping blood of side
 go run away & hide
 standing alone with a noose around my neck
 what the heck is this life for ?
 it's not known in a Studio 54
 nor of that a Warhol piece of Campbell soup cans
 hopefully someday you will understand
 that you can't get away from sticking it to the man
 life is to short for losers like you
 sit back with your spaghetti with sauce & Ragu
 you got eyes of blackened hot wired stench
 ears that hear but you straddle the fence
 said you read your books in school but you haven't made a dent
 try to even the score lest I implore
 another place in time hence another door

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