You were always such a little ****,
Given and gotten all the luck.
Not ours and finding our lovely mutt,
No worries, we’ll be worth more muck.
Your imagination worth all pumps,
You leave those scattered in the dirt.
Then they end up just your messed up dumps,
As you blame others while you hurt.
So happy never bearing children,
By you such an empty storm close.
Burning like a chilling cauldron,
Smell burning flesh In your own nose.
Lakes to lands, all tainted their revenge,
Will walk the lost souls all left strenge.