Petey

He floated to the surface,
Top of the manosphere cesspool,
And with his gelled-up hair and racist tattoo,
He is taking her from you.

He offers you a bourbon,
Smirking,
"Me, I never touch the stuff now,"
As he takes a quiet sip.
In minutes,
He will challenge you to pushups
After interrupting questions and criticisms.
She is hanging on his arm
Beneath the AR-15 ink.

He muses,
"Who'd have thought...
They kicked me out,
And now I'm back to rule
With lists of names,
Girls,
Minorities.
You bleeding hearts,
You think a peace is possible
Without a final ending,
When enemies are still alive,"
He sneers,

And still, I cannot understand
Whatever she is seeing,
Leaving for this little boy,
The tiny fake pretending,
Heading for a gossip column
And a vicious entry
In history books.

She'll regret,
Deny it all one day
Escaping to her next mistake.

- 4/16/26

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