Ain’t No Saint – Unhinged Poem

Winters hand,

a brave man came,

upon his head,

he wore a crown of shit,

disciples all around him,

none trusted his words,

a betrayer the many,

no sufferage did he know,

the wicked hands of worthiness,

to worship that which you stole,

my line and lie,

signal the riot,

blessed the dumb,

and cauterise the rest…