Die.
If I were to die would it matter?
Should I quickly down that bottle of bleach just like I down that sadness with an extra shot of pain.
Should I make like my dad and leave.
Permanently.
Forever.
Eternally burning in hell.
SURE!
Since I'm I don't have rights
Or since my individualism means nothing to you
sure.
Go right ahead.
Be my fucking guest.
YOU ARE READING
A Spark Of Hope
PoetryTHE GESTURE: By George Oppen The question is: how does one hold an apple Who likes apples And how does one handle Filth? The question is How does one hold something In the mind which he intends To grasp and how does the salesman Hold a bauble he int...
