The Things I Would Like to Say...But Never Will.  

I do not care about how many shits
You take a day
Or how long it took you
Or what time you did it
Or that you yelled at a girl
Complaining about your smelly ass deeds
While she tries to apply her makeup.  
Please….stop.  Just.  Stop.  Your.  Shit talk.  

Your breath smells so bad
That I can only imagine
Your breakfast repertoire
Is fetid road kill.  

Your English is so extraordinarily bad
I can only smile and nod
And wish
I were not here pretending
That I understand  
As much as one
Tongue fucked word
You said.

You do not want to go
By He or She
Or any pronoun
Because you can’t identify
But I can’t identify with Ze
And would rather just
Not talk to you at all, I guess.  

I would like for you
Take your pretentious
Upper class ass
To the dregs of the
Lower class mass
And eat their lowly
Ass low brass
Fucking social class
Poverty for a while.  
Come back and tell me
Then that you give a shit
About the bottomless pit
Where they solemnly sit
While reaching FOR
A god that doesn’t care.