I whisper to my fingers

What to say, what to say "Talk to somebody about the way that you feel" The comfort of that seems oh so surreal A fleeting thing, just a glimpse or a glance Of a hollow reminder of when hope had a chance. "Be aware of your feelings, you know there's just five, And while you are at it, be happy you're alive" But happiness from sorrow is what I obtain Can't beat um then join em, so we'll all hate in vain "God will bring you peace"- I like that the most Usually from Christians or at least so they boast Idiots and morons I see them as such To claim to know God and not know this much: To err is human, as is to feel pain The more suffering on earth, in heaven we'll gain And what a glorious place this heaven should be Filled with the screams of those who wronged me Where now has hope gone, if not in this life? If not in my daughter, or of finding a wife It has festered and swollen to an impotent gland One I keep hidden in the palm of my hand And when people approach me with their heads in the sky, I whisper to my fingers "they all soon shall die"