Decomposition…

Should I just remain composed?

Or should I help them attain to be decomposed,

Those that make my life all the more exposed,

They need to be lying in dirt six feet down,

On their lives the gods have foreclosed…

My stomach full tonight with baked ziti,

I feel satisfied and full and should be in Tahiti,

I am tired of being me, I wish I were less meaty,

The poetry I write just so much is it graffiti…

Doubled up on my Zoloft,

Wish to feel tonight more aloft,

Can’t get high on illegal drugs,

Got no one but Rufuz here to give me healing hugs…

Let them that don’t like my life just f**k off,

Buried they should be in a hogs trough,

Wish I could live from writing, but no,

No longer would I need a boss, everyone could just go blow…

          © ed ~ 8/7/05