Sick : Adult Poetry

Dig up that grave you disturbed and sick fool,

What the hell do you want?

Respect death,

God your cruel.

What is your need?

The joy of death?

Or the vulnerability,

Of spirit to rest.

Ok, you cunt!

Give respect to that soul.

Ashes to ashes,

No, fuckings your goal.

You cannot leave peace,

Tranquillity to rest.

Your dick rules your head,

But you know best.

You sick and distorted,

You cannot be real.

And if you are,

Have no ability to feel-

Real

emotions

Jesus, stop this?

Leave those souls that are resting,

Give your own its not missed.

By Rebecca Heffernan

Copyrighted