Rhythm Poem by Robin Rodriguez

I hope you're not staying,
'Cuz your presence is chafing,
And I know you hope
That to The House I go.

Don't wait for me to nice
Because my veins are filled with ice.
From having so many meetings with your cane,
Or disciplinary rod, the meaning's the same.

What you've done is fill me with hate
Something money and gifts won't placate
I will always look at you with disgust
Since you have broken my trust.

I can always tell when you're near,
Because everything just dies,
You make me want to shrivel
Like a raisen, or douse myself with diesel
And tell someone to light a match
And die rather than live in this patch
Of lies, venom, and hypocrisy
While you surround yourself with vanity.

You say we mean more to you than anything.
Anything but money.
The epiphany of all time is this...
You don't buy children;
You buy slaves.