Categories
Poetry

Good Riddance

I hope you’re freezin’

Down in your guts

Pushed by rough guides

Who’ll give your soul

For quids.

Beneath the sod, it traps you

As we spit on your spirit

And laugh at heaven’s

Hatred of you.

Give up squirm!

Collapse in a belief

That we who are left

Are proud.

By M.J. Channon

Creative, interested in arts and entertainment. Voice over experience and radio persona of some sorts. Done things and some other stuff with it as well...

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