New poetry book or...

This shit again

There is too much violence in this family

I have to go before I kill somebody again

The body's have never been found asking

Did we taste good

My mind was once crippled and I did mine

Sentence fourteen years and did five it is not

Like that now hey I will be sentenced to forty

Eight I will need serve behind bars yeah

Go ahead bitch behind my back and I'll have

Your head spinning for that round and round

At the raised track just like your bloodied Mary

And these other saints we can't see

Other than in the carvings of idolatry and it does

Scare me when you want to cut down my tree to

Create this paper money leaving me no room to

Breathe bringing it back on me

There is no more regenerating but let's have fun trying

Though there will be hell too pay for those who're lying

And when I say I am fed up it means I am full and want no

More from you I will take no more filth so stop with the

Octagon calling because I'm trying to now let my past go

Fighting this is no way to love this now but if you really need

To see me fall just make the call and bring it on call yeah

I'm up for dying and thank you for trying this shit again

Hahaha yeah