The Curse to Come (Poem)

Something’s coming in the air alright But it ain’t some typa hippie lookin fairy on a cloud It’s the stench of pile up in an open grave that looks more like a garbage dump Full of bodies that no one can claim Cuz the claimants got hit with the curse just the same No force Not truth, not reason Not even punishment from the mighty rod is able to knock sense into the recesses of the powerless netherworld

I Got Your Back (Poem)

I just want to touch you And talk to you And ask for your advice And play with you And support you And give you a rise I want to ride you And submit to you And give you what you want But most of all I want to have your back til the end No matter what