Lady Vulture

The culture of the lady vulture… You rape, you sneak, you creep, you lie, you cheat, you steal, you don’t have the ability to feel, you’d sell your soul to get half a piece, of your orgasmic release, you’re the lowest form of life, you’d backstab you’d betray a married man, for a one night stand, with his wife, you’re a product of greed and lust, in the act of competition you’d lie to your brother, about killing your mother, just, to maintain, his trust, to restrain, his lust, after your golden prize, an intoxicated naïve female victim with innocence in her eyes, only to witness and experience your lies, when she cries, when you’re pulling up your pants and saying your goodbyes, when you say, “ Sorry baby, I just need a love that satisfies.” Using the word love thinking you’re relating, to people like me who really do know what that word means, love to you is the act of masturbating, to the pre-teens, and your dirty magazines, you’re a coward you’re pathetic lying to get laid, in war when your opponents make you afraid, your fair fight or trade, is wearing a bulletproof vest and standing behind your closest friends, that you’ve betrayed, a line of pathetic losers that never ends, you degrade, you only hang around your own kind, 10 of you put together equals 1 simple mind, without a soul, 1 motive, 1 lifetime goal, being a hardcore sex machine, working your 1 daily get sex routine, exercise, stay fit, eat 3 meals a day, organize, take a s**t, waste your life away, work, get paid, use your money to get her drunk so you can get laid, Awwwwww…don’t cry…it’s ok!!! You need, people like me, to constantly reassure, you that you’re insecure, you use cockiness, disguised as confidence, as the lure, give me more, give me more, f**k your wh***s, f**k your wh***s, go ahead tell me again how you’ve had sex with her before, and her even more, Mr. Macho F**k oh my god you’re my hero you’re so hardcore, you’re such a rockstar on the I f**k mega chicks tour, well I just smile nod my head and make sure, that I appropriately wash my hand after I shake yours…triple anti-biotic soap f**ker can’t you see? For you are what I aspire not to be, I hope to you that this poem will serve as a form of therapy, that will help you come to the self-realization of who you really are, to kill your imagination of believing that you have come so far, in your life, dead end path your existence rots and decays, the truth is when you’re alone you’re crying, because you know inside you’re dying, in a million different ways.