KIRK B FORSETH II

  Like a tormented soul, you begin to shout Ranting on subjects you know nothing about To everyone, near your words are so profane Giving us reason to believe you’re insane Your anger is sent in my direction Before we begin, let’s make the correction Your attitude is not what I would expect Especially your total lack of respect A barrage of words you now want to exchange Honey, there’s no way in hell you’re in my range Those flapping lips are starting to take their toll Listen up, buttercup, that’s not how I roll I want you to remember just who I am ‘Cause once I get started, I won’t give a damn Best check yourself before you see my black heart My words will literally tear you apart So don’t count on me giving you any slack There’s no way to survive my verbal attack Ask yourself if this is what you desire My words will burn your sorry ass like fire

  I sit here alone on this melancholy night Waiting patiently for my clock to strike midnight Jasmine incense and burning candles light my room All the while, my morbid heart is filled with her gloom I have been this way for the past three hundred years My wife is gone, and I hold back my vampire tears   Please don’t get me wrong, for I love what I am Two nights hence her death, and now I don’t give a damn Maybe my fate would be if I walked in the sun Perhaps I should go out for some vampiric fun Dark thoughts of the sweet crimson running down my throat Hold on one second, let me grab my black trench coat   Flying up high, I’m searching the city streets Don’t care if they’re sober or to the wind two sheets Ponder if I should continue my existence The search for living blood is still my persistence By a stroke of luck, I find the man of the hour So quickly I descend so I can devour   His bronzed skin is so perfect that my fang...

  Fifth grade came, and Eric got the only male teacher that St. Thomas had, Mr. Banjos. He was known as the math teacher, and his reputation preceded him. He was a mathematical man. The only problem was that he was a giant douche bag. If Cafferty ever had a teacher whom he hated most, it was Banjos. What could the teacher do that was so horrid to warrant a child’s disdain, long enough to last into adulthood? He did what the other teacher did. He placed him in the corner, made sure that he was shunned by the other children, and lied. Eric did the same thing, focusing on one homework subject and neglecting the others. That meant that homework wasn’t done, and he had to get his assignment book signed by both teachers and parents. Again, the work suffered as he didn’t understand what was going on and just wrote anything to get it done.             Then there came the time that he was tired of being in the corner and made a deal w...