Here is an OLD poem that I found in an old notebook from school. I used to write these instead of listening to the teacher. Hahaha. Anyway, here it goes.
GAMBLE
Hell grows in you like a weed,
planted from your evil seed.
It was done, the awful deed.
Sold my soul for my own greed.
Money is the object here,
your conscience never will be clear.
Kill the good that's deep inside,
where your anger and frustration hide.
Let it bubble, let it fester,
rats like us, we like to pester.
Gamble with your life and lot,
throw it all into the pot.
Richly dressed and growing poor,
your addiction only eats you more.
Sweet tooth getting sweeter still,
empty pockets you can't fill.
Roll the dice this one last time,
All they way to your last dime. |
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