Thursday, January 3, 2008

Bastard Speaks

You people call me a tainted soul
Just for being a drunken bloke,
Flying with soaring cocaine dose
And mingling with low-cost whores-
What else I do, would you tell me please…
I never peeped at your house,
Never thought to torture your brood
Nor spent a night with your spouse-
Hey, you’re talking of Jen!
Do you know her man?
She deserved that one night stand,
Jen was of that midnight brand-
And you call me the father
Of what she had hatched!
My throat was alcoholic then, so
Didn’t give her the mother’s badge-
She was a headless bitch to bear
The silly pregnancy headache
As I did never make a vow
To be a committed cock of her chick-
Another bastard born from blue
And I curse Jen for the mishap;
And now you’re pleading for Julie?
Of all I met, she was the most silly-
She left her job at the roadside pub
And dived in the lunacy of settling
With a hooked sex-freak like me;
The later tragedy is known to thee-

Living the life of a stray dog,
Hiding my face in dark section
Of society untouched by civilian-
For this enigmatic position, I curse
My mother for she denied an abortion.
I get desperate to spit at her dead soul
And piss at her shabby coffined womb-
That disloyal bitch sucked all pleasure
Along with that bastard in their youth
Turning all happiness stored in my fate
Into this obnoxious thorny explicit truth.
Since I got my consciousness, my ears
Have been tampered a million times
With the sarcastically presented scandal
Revealing how this fucker came into life-
Yea birth’s my blunder, it’s my first crime.
Since then crime has been my passion;
My legendary versatility is continuing-
Dagger and drugs are my professional aid,
Only faithful dealer of my daily bread;
Rape and molestation are my compulsion
Like cutting of woods to a carpenter,
But a long way to go, who’ll accompany-
Oh this Jamaican whiskey has the flavour,
It’s a transsexual illusion, I’m alcoholic forever.


-littleWriter

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