I was asked if this poem is true, unfortunetly it is. The day I wrote this poem was the day it happened. The fu*@ed up part about it is the "man" who sprayed the mace was one of my homies. Which explains the passion of my anger, hatered, and revenge in this poem. Think about your mom getting sprayed by mace from a
"friend". I'm thinking about writting a continuation poem from this one to see if this punk bi*ch gets what he desrves. But I'm not sure. Any suggestions?

Your poems are so powerful i can't stop reading them even through thier so full
of pain the pain that drives you insane
I wish i could just give you a hug. You
seenlike someone who needs a hug
hugggggggggggggggggggg cy