If I would eat alphabet soup,
And afterwards, take a nice, long ****,
The random combination of letters
In the bowl's water, all splattered,

Would make an infinite amount
Of sense when compared
To all the ramblings you surmount
And somehow feel obliged to share.

It seems as though the road to Hell
Was only paved with good intent.
Though you try to offer a hand,
You often feel abrupt lament

For such shameful, yet obvious
Indignant and deplorable
Remarks you knew they'd not repent
And knew would sound just horrible.

How they can't think before speaking
Only makes all their arguments
Lose any credibility
And creates such a vast dissent

With those who see past the futility
Behind this debate's disgraceful content.

There are many fates which we can conceive
That easily prove to be worse than death.
The type of cruel doom most cannot believe,
The kind of affair which sharpens your breath.

You could succumb to plague, famine, or war,
All these atrocities, you would labor
For what may seem like an endless purview,
And all these nefarious blights, you'd rue.

You could feel regret for what might've been,
And solely dwell in memories of past,
Constantly question what you did, and when,
Think of why you went where you would hold fast.

Death's a luxury compared to the strain
That's inherent with life's shackling chains.

Why must we fight this ongoing war?
For how much longer must blood be shed?
Why was it started in the first place?
Can't you see people we send are dead?

You only think in your own interests,
You just seem to think about yourself.
To Hell with your greed and selfishness,
You pigs don't care for anyone else!

You tear apart innocent lives,
That's how your profits seem to thrive!
When you pigs face untimely wrath,
You'll have none to blame for this path

Of self-destruction you all wrought!
Your own demise is what you brought!

Life is a vapor.
As quickly as it was made,
So it vanishes.

For years, I dreamt of ending the life
Which I regrettably shared with you.
A life through which I felt so much pain,
I thought there was nothing else to do

But be the glutton for punishments
You seemed to think I somehow deserved.
Why a child should be so viciously
Abused makes me feel beyond perturbed.

Still, I no longer wish to harbor
Dreadful woe and despair that you wrought.
I severed our ties, then realized
The prison in which I had felt caught

Could not be upheld once I could see
You never had power over me.