anger with a whore

a red lipped whore with frozen fingers,

telling me not to ask my fucking questions,

you make me sick, you foul my street

you look at me and ya get your kick.

your filthy habits screw my mind

a destitution for those unkind

you lie, you cheat, you leave me weak

you think your magic, you’re only cheap.

you bite the takers, you screw their cash,

you inject your poison & build your stash

i hate you with a venom born

of all the hate that i have learnt.

you sit in filth and break my dreams

understanding nothing of what i mean.

you look in hate with broken eyes

and blame me now for stolen skies

your life, your past, your wearied skin

you think i care for what you did?

you can blame the state, or blame your birth

i dont care what you think you’re worth

i dont care, i live my life

i love my children i kiss my wife.

for you to tell me that i’m wrong

to lead me on for just so long

to get you cash, to get your fix

i hate you woman, & all your sick.

a mistake was made, a bad day had

a bored husband with a weekend fad

you chase me down & i’ll slit your throat

let love and blood together soak.

so i’m off and out, i’ll fix my world

leave you behind my broken girl.

~ staring at candles too long makes you wonder about things

(c) Ed Simkins

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One thought on “anger with a whore

  1. thank you you lovely bloggers for making this your eighth favourite poem on here. i do appreciate your responses & comments. i’m not sure though whether you liked the flow of the ideas or the actual idea itself…haha. let’s wonder about that! đŸ˜›

    Like

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