Dead in heaven, or alive in hell?

a reminder to some;
poetry
is not about
eloquence.
its about
the
presence
of
essence.
then again,
what do
i
know?

if eloquence

were 

a wall;

it would be

6 feet tall

and I

6 feet deep.

Now if only

there

were one more

6, to rouse up

all the

christian kids.

Id come back from

the grave and

spray paint

"FUCK YOUR gOD"

on that wall

and

then, probably

have to run

from the law.

Recede right

back

to that ol'

familiar crawl.

(you know it all too well)

And join the rest

of you:

fucking fleas,

blood sucking tics,

parasites.

Disease.

ShearedSheep.

Brainwashed with ease.

(you all know it too well