I write with my pen a very cruel tale

a gruesome one that completely fails

society has failed in a manner so lame

youd think it was purposely ruining its name

im not my fathers daughter or my mothers time

I wasn't born that I wont lie

he was born into a time of death

one cough one more time to fret

he grew mad and drank till he died

but his seed didn't peak or try to hide

he waited until my mother was here

to find a place it could finally indeer

his madnesss lives in his writings of feel

I am not here I am not real

he wanted to show you what death was to know

shattered his innocent

my father poe