free as a whore


to those who are ungrateful I hold a dagger,

to their backs when they see not for they deserve,

nothing but to see their toils spilled like blood.

this is anger at its finest,

perhaps better yet contained,

into words, rather than anything more,

for words are free, free as a whore.

you are not ignorant because I know more. you are ignorant because you don’t know that I know more.

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