A Letter to John (freestyle rhyme)


Prayers for insane. Payers don’t get blamed. Layers for the game.


Doomsayers say. Favors come with maim. Strayers have timeframe. I counterclaim.


I have nightmares. Downstairs lost your way. Wares have minimal wage. Flares now come with rage.


Affairs decay. Players turn the page. But what of you became?


I’m not okay.

© Delia Ross. 2022 / @poeeternal

John, I haven’t forgot you were crucified upside down for Thanksgiving. Worst way to die. The very worse. “I’m spitting” hear, hear

Your story is a guidepost for my own wrongdoing.

I can’t get past the, “I thought it was going to open up”

“Yeah, we took that off the map. Figured people with common sense would know dusty means don’t go”

I want to rip his fucking dick off with my teeth, I mean Lorena Bobbitt cut her husbands dick off with scissors and they’re doing fine…

Just saying

Michael Levitt murdered John Jones

Psst… John is here. He’s refractive.

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