An Ode To All My Children

It is about time your sissy ass told the truth and confess the old cunt that you are
One thing about me, I don’t hide behind wandering sheep profiles I am a lone star  
I do not write as a man with little frills words like an angered little bitch  
Someone needs glasses, now you starting to sound like a clit  
Strap up Susan Lucci oh… what mental health issues we weave    
I know others who still function as a woman with no make believe  
If you want to act like a man, hey that is your gist  
But don’t you dare try to stick your saggy breasts out like you got a dick  
   
I could care less if you want to jump over the moon, under, or jump through it  
Your mind is deranged not mine  
I just realize, my IQ is superior and in my old French Haitian Creole soul, you are just not worth the time  
I do not turn the other cheek  
Knowledge is my power and I love how I spiritually seek    
That Bible given to idle minds, and empty hands  
To control the minds of the meek and fools on plantation lands    
Your false ideology of your Atheism, your non-spiritual mind reeks  
I could give damn if your think you will not reap  
Sheman, you have me all wrong    
I am composed, my novel royalties speak the craft of my song  
And I do not have to pretend to be everyone, I am not taking up square boxes all day long  
    
It does not matter if it is from noon until night  
Your dog paws are starting to show Miss, Hyde, no worries, your bark is not even a bite  
If you really think my mind is involved in holy words in the mist when you have declared war  
You approach, you will drown trying to bring those evil intentions upon my shores  
You racist cunt    
Acting like you a man upfront..  
Peace… mm… think again your stage you have set, no remorse, no conscious at best  
I will stomp you at the root with knowledge about yourself    
And your Karen mentality to show you are the oppressor and the evil in your bogus mindset    
   
Then bleed you out like I am the eleventh sin  
The one who will chop the head off of the witch, bitch and the Jinn  
No need to hide behind a mask,  
I already know the stench of your trashy ass  
You have dropped your façade, your true characteristic flaws have spoken to the wind  
Only clits get made instead of bringing the revenge  
   
Thousand lashes to repent, as the mountain into molehill circumvents  
I do hope you have a while.. dueling with a clit and a false dick    
Potshots and mental hits.. I will keep it legit  
Therefore, pull up your Depend    
Come hell or high water, reality shall defend  
   
Poem dedicated to Susan Lucci, Daytime Drama Queen, From ‘All My Children’