FK

Author: Stephen W. Cote

You little "brat shit"

You gave it all away

What purpose drives you

Other than your greasy dance

Yes, the prance of vanity

And complete selfishness

Not one shred of compassion

But concern for your image

Faux-man, a wasteful man

An utter fake.

And I bought into your sale

- You are for sale

But way over priced.

It took a while

The longest by far

But you used me up

And now I can't wait

To stand back and

Watch with a baleful eye

But an eye that sheds no tear

As you do your greasy dance.

What a broken little man,

Selfish and insecure, vane and

Undeserving of all you've received.

Resource-sucking failures

Are amusing to watch from afar

But never let them leech onto you.

I've cursed far too much for this

Frustrating, bitter, heartless person -

Not a rhyme for you, not a song

Or a sonnet, just a rant.

Because you really couldn't care

How miserable you make other people.