You sit there and plot,
just to make people want you to rot.
You put your plan into action,
You never expected this reaction.
You have the power to make people cry,
You have the power to make people wanna die.
Others pain is your guilty pleasure,
your guilt is to little to measure.
You back stabbed your best friend,
and you never stopped to think if it was worth it in the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Others pain is your guilty pleasure, your guilt is to little to measure. Rachel Ann Butler