O.D.H.G.A.B.F.E.

Hate. Falling three feet to the ground.
Face down on the cold floor
of a well-oiled SF pigsty
I met my one true love.
Feel youth crushed somewhere between concrete and a boot,
another victim of the lower hate.
You are not my god x 2
You think this is funny don't you pig?
How the helpless freak squirms
beneath our state sanctioned soles,
but what is he laughing at?
There was nothing padded about a wagon full of mace.
Rotator cuff hyper extends behind my back ribs
cracking beneath a rain of sticks and heels
falling down like the rain outside.
Oh yeah bitch I'm gonna remember
your face your name your number;
and when I crawl out of this hole
I'm going to make you all mine.
Auschwitz Kent State Chi-Town 68 Tianamen Waco.