deepundergroundpoetry.com
Getting Pissed At Your Therapist
They tell me the reason I’m acting wild
I haven’t got in touch with my inner child
If I don’t’ face my abusers seeking closure
I will not regain a non-violent composure
If I don’t agree to take medication
I can’t reduce my rage and aggravation
If me and the psychologist are not on the same page
She worries I won’t be able to control all this rage
So I killed my therapist she had nothing more to say
I’m a just psychopathic bastard, I was born that way
There’s no way, I am going to learn to forgive
I’ve completely ran out of fucks to give
I’m forgiving no one as I start my killing spree
Death a righteous punishment, in the first degree
Therapy and therapists, just a fuckin lie
Twenty three people still need to die
With one machete in each hand I’ll drop them to their knees
I met my inner child today, he says that he agrees
I dreamt last night of closure, no more internal pain
Killing number twenty three ends my murderous reign
Contorted faces, heads on spikes
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