I'll Be Damned Poem by Ima Ryma

Be damned be all the be good stuff
Shoved down my throat in Sunday school.
Bible thumpers, I had enough.
To hell with the trite Golden Rule.
Oh, I pretended that I be
A pious sort with giving soul.
I let no one really know me.
Taking from others was my goal.
And then one day I up and died.
The whole town came to pay respects.
Closed coffin, it was dark inside,
Hard to fathom that I was ex.

The devil came for me in search,
As I was buried by the church.