All the types of love // Poetry // Compilation #6

noose loose in the hoose

This meat, said he, is way too raw,

it was not cooked by C4.

I can tell these children overdosed,

the drugs have leaked into the toast.

And this marrow, said he, is way too thin,

it looks like it's just made of skin.

I paid for European orphan, said he,

not African malnourished adoptee.

These kids are selfish to kill themselves,

all I want is their meat on shelves.

Long are the days of genocide banquets.

Now we have to suffer suicide madness.