Brassknuckled

That's it, I quit, I hate this shit!
Literally sick and tired of it!
Shakespeare laid down the pen
And Ernest fucking Hemingway ate a bullet

Archimedes wouldn't look up from his math sheet-
He wanted to die doing something he enjoyed
One deserves what one accepts

Lock me up, the cuckoo-woman
Struck to her knees when she realized the trees by the ballpark had once lived in a forest
Never again will the trunks be wider than highways, you know;
The birth control pill causes cancer and doctors won't tell you
Then you pass the risk on to your daughters
(Just in time for healthcare to be abolished for all but the rich)
Permitting, promoting- nay, cherishing the drawn-out downfall
Some shouldn't breed and others shouldn't breathe but
One deserves what one accepts

It's a big wound and very infected
I've had enough of cutting off flesh
And deserve to suffer no more

"Look for the kindest folk on the gallows",
(For the vultures have the final vote on who truly was good)
Die on your feet; live on your knees;
Die on your knees; live with a straight sore spine;
Roll the dice. Fuck it.
Die on one knee, in tears, middle finger up and brassknuckled punching the Reaper in the crotch

Already the times are all changing again
Winter is approaching and the warm magic in my veins
Will chill with the cold, make me ache and pause the world
Is catching fire and I. I've had too many homes burn down on me.

I'm about to bow my chin to the chopping block when a hummingbird
Stops to drink mere inches from my face his widdle eyes accuse me

I pick myself up, pick up the shepherd's cane and square my shoulders
"Ah fuck it, Prospero
I don't want to break my staff anymore"