• I hate to say,
    during the days,
    of mercyless grief,
    That you are nothing,
    To me at all,
    Nothing but dirt.

    You killed my soul,
    Not to be mean,
    But out of grief,
    Or even hate.

    For someone else,
    I took the burden,
    For someone else,
    I don't even know,
    Or even liked.

    But now,
    It dosen't matter,
    Because like I said,
    You are nothing but dirt,
    For I don't care,
    If you're dead,
    Or even alive.