Does The Good Guy Win? - Poem by Kyle Bellinger
I want to throw my fists through a wall,
And bleed the letters that spell out,
'Rage Without A Right.'
When I break my skin on the concrete,
I'll paint a picture in the plasma,
Depicting the lack of entropy in your actions.
I know everything written here,
Is rather illaudable and someday regrettable,
But my frustration has crafted a noose of uncertainty
And it's being lowered past my ears...over and under my chin.
Tonight these gallows will be graced with inflamed screams.
And trust me, I'll scream till I find a parallax between your eyes and the back of your skull.
Then again, when that time comes,
It will be too late.
But I'll not have gone without taking with me,
The hearing of those that suspended me by that rope.
Someday I'll write something happy,
And in my euphoria, I'll title it,
'A Less Than Complete Misunderstanding, '
For happiness is only a time when agony is at rest.
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