Cold Plate

revenge is best served cold, though it's not the main theme in this poem

Please spare your breath

Instead of my feelings

You know, the less you say

The less I feel anyways

I suppose until death

I will keep on reeling

From my rotten impurities

And human insecurities

But when I am gone

And through with my doom

Please say your kind words

At the foot of my tomb

Iâll keenly hear for compliments

But for the ill-hearted too

I keep my tabs for reasons

Iâm not through with all of you