Adam Bateman Poems

Hello to the hell of life,
hello mother...use that knife.
Cut the cord to the past,
help hate...to always last.
...

Darkness swept upon the home,
embers from the fire flicker,
sitting in a chair alone,
wasted cigarette bottle of liquor.
...

The jobs we have, we do with joy,
even the lowest whipping boy,
loves to feel masters whip,
for the chance of a small tip.
...

Doctors face pale, told a lie,
thing inside consuming all,
feeling fine, await recall.
Before long, signs jump out,
...