Why I’d Rather be Dead

Now I face the side I hide

And see through eyes of my demise.

You see, in verse, my thoughts are often softened.

I’ve written that by love I’m smitten.

But truth be told my soul is cold

And shuns the pain that here does reign.

The empath here is nowhere near

He’s chased away and kept at bay

Sickened by the egocentric.

As compassion falls from fashion

Love of neighbor becomes too great a labor.

So what is left of life bereft

Of loving one another?

A lonely empty hell-like shell

Of love unknown and hearts of stone.

The Sacred Heart is now apart,

So life, alas, can kiss my ass.

8/28/99