like you it to be the sharp pointed objects resembled my hate towards that ass hole yes I hate him I wish him away to the black but I ain't able to drive a bus I'm Italian that should explain it 24 hours past and my head still hurts ahh shut up all your voices letting me down in a hell all it's own, all hell, I am just another rotting ass hole to be dead or something, unless I'm on Earth with him I, hate him Don't I have a lot to tell, about my hate mostly, disgusting after all, the voices say I'm to hate dirty news paper, a corner bum resembling my life, gone.
Reason for writing:
I think I wrote it about my father but it was a long long
time ago and He got me pist off. But I could of wrote it for
something else
Birth sign: Not entered
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