A sickening twist in the depth of the gut
Confirmed my overall impression
The smell, that look, and his sallow disorder
Such a nasty, diseased obsession

He’s a little bit off, almost all the time
And oblivious to the right way
I’m consumed by disdain being near him
And think hard about what I should say

It’d be better were he to die in the street
Or remanded to life in prison
Lobotomy might be the only recourse
An effective, acute incision

He lamented once all he needed was help
As he twisted my gut once again
We all knew the truth—he’s a blight to the world
A malignant excuse for a man