0 Comments

I write to appease
the monster within
that growls and howls
at the rising moon.

Why can't you understand
it is a need that is never
satisfied, never fulfilled,
like a festering wound
that can't be healed.

Mother, you were right
to turn me out
so many years ago,
I am a miserable bastard
with nothing nice to say.

This is why I write.