Over and over,
Like a woodpecker drilling.
Instead of blood, however,
It's my patience that's spilling.
You don't even stop
To think about the day you're killing.

Obviously your thought process
Suffered learning losses.
And whatever reason your mom taught ya
Is packed up in boxes.
Thank radomness
That asses are not also my bosses.

The next time, as well,
When you call me a liar and chuckle.
Realize how close I am
To pulverizing you with a belt buckle.
Stepping pressure on your neck,
Until I sever even your muscles.

You won't get a chance
To close your door and ignore me.
A simple nod to my simple fact
Is all that I need to see.
But instead you attack me,
Because you're too stupid for understanding.

Avoid it, or regret it.
Once You've said it you've said it.
Not worth it, I know,
But your sufferage might make me better, I bet it.

And if I do, I'll get away with it,
All remains and evidence will be shredded.
Then this genius unrealized,
Will worry about one less asshole, fetid.


- Danny Wharton

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