Your relentless lust persists to resist,
words of encouragement are what’s in need.
They expect me to die by my slitting my wrists,
I know they are betting and smoking weed.
I’m mis-understood and under-estimated too,
I doubt this will change not even with you.
There is nothing you or anyone can do,
you can follow me down and never return too.
I do not think you will make it back home,
when I get what I need and hold you down.
It’s time to feast and I like to eat alone,
behind the Black Door in the dark part of town.
dead beat poet 