April Poem 2.3

The Problem With You

I didn’t make this mess
But I have to clean it
All the death and debt
I take responsibility
When you go.
This earth slowly cursed
Turning on and on
It’s slime slowly applied
By you.
And I cannot say
“I’m leaving”
Where would I go?

You promised me success
Everyone living in clean white towers,
None would want
All would Live
And you lied about that
Knowing the truth that
You would sabotage our lives
For fleeting happiness
In your own.

Your crimes are legion
And no court can convict you
Your number too great
How you sleep I’ll never know
When you sleep I’ll still be awake
Struggling through filth and evil
That you left because you did nothing.

Author: Matthew

A father, son, husband, and fairly rad dude.

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