Black Friday Poem by Saint Cynosure

I've come upon your porch for skor,
to leave your breath but lost.
The sour words so loved to share,
this burden is the cost.
Sweet it is to me in mind,
disenjoyment none to lack.
I've come to share this very moment,
to paint your Friday black.
Black by sight,
black by sound,
black by deepthness seldom found.
Black shall be all that remains,
so emptiness of color.
This morbid gift is all I have,
its all that I could find.
There's no receipt inside my sack,
I cannot take it back.
Ive come to visit you tonight,
to paint your Friday black.