Strange Hate Poem by Dead Beat Poet

Strange Hate

Rating: 4.0


I'll drink to your death,
with a strange kind of hate.
I'll arrive very early,
so I won't be late.

It should come,
as no surprise.
I've taken you head,
and removed your eyes.

Now I can rest,
knowing you're gone.
All that's left,
is burial at dawn.

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