'' To The Depths Of Hell I Will Crawl '' Poem by Bri Mar

Thinking as an action,
Has a certain attraction,
It buries me deep in my thoughts,
No physical reaction,
Saves me from distraction,
As I lie here moored with my yachts.

Of one thing I'm sure,
My ideals are pure,
I can have whatever I want,
Even the obscure,
Has a certain allure,
My riches I do love to flaunt.

My friends in power,
When with me they cower,
I know things which could blow them apart,
They're a motley shower,
Whom I could devour,
They know I could rip out their heart.

I'm a self-centred soul,
In total control,
Of all that comes anywhere near,
What I extol,
Is being on a roll,
My earnings I can make disappear.

With dogged persistence,
I'll put up resistance,
I won't let you take what is mine,
So, keep your distance,
It's a form of subsistence,
That makes scum like me feel divine.

I admit I'm lax,
When it comes to tax,
The fact is I don't pay it at all,
When fiddling to the max,
I cover the cracks,

‘' To The Depths Of Hell I Will Crawl ‘'