human love


Hate the sin but love the sinner

Bollocks I say. They hate you and your guts, when you tell them their ‘gods’ are phoney

Then its open season.

They tell you they love you for ever

Or your their Bestest Bestie,

Tiil you forget their birthday

They send each other birthday wishes

And stand dressed up at each others funerals

All pretending

All talking shit, for most

When you were alive

They were already dead

just waiting for the grave

phoney brass handle on the



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