The Devil was born at my side
And today he there remains
He whispers secrets to me
And puts thoughts in my brain.
The Devil knows not how to love
So he must protest
That the way The Devil loves
Is, surely, the best.
The Devil knows not how to sing
A screeching voice has he
So he commands his choirs to
Sing for him endlessly.
The Devil is no Father
They do not share the name
And yet, I still will wonder
Are he and Him the same?
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Poetry Sucks: a poetry collection
PoetryA collection of poems written by a dingus who doesn't know how to write poetry. All of these are public domain so you can use 'em in your TikToks or on your MySpace pages. This mainly consists of: -Serious poetry -Vent poetry and, most importantly ...
