I do hate thee <br />and count the ways. <br />you hide inside <br />a toxic haze. <br /> <br />That rotten smell, <br />sound of your voice <br />your place is Hell, <br />you have no choice. <br /> <br />I must assume <br />that God can make <br />a witch with broom <br />and you, the flake. <br /> <br />But his intent? <br />It will not click, <br />who would invent <br />a drug-soaked prick? <br /> <br />Well, up in Heaven, <br />the two discuss, <br />each night at seven <br />the earthly fuss. <br /> <br />Satan and God <br />debate and choose, <br />and give the nod <br />to those who lose. <br /> <br />Thus God receives <br />repenting souls, <br />while Satan grieves <br />for ugly moles. <br /> <br />Will they decide <br />for gutter-creeps, <br />through whose thin hide <br />the badness seeps? <br /> <br />A low-life man <br />like you arrives, <br />whose evil plan <br />ruined many lives. <br /> <br />No one will cringe, <br />you'll plead in vain. <br />Take the syringe, <br />Scum Of Cocaine! <br /> <br />Of all the fools <br />a handful lack <br />those innate rules, <br />they won't come back. <br /> <br />The time will come <br />when D N A <br />of filth and scum <br />will have to pay. <br /> <br />ANNIHILATE <br />each single cell, <br />that is your fate. <br />You won't make Hell.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/drug-dealers/
