*Warning, this is a little….raw*
I hope this hurts as bad as you hurt us. Look to the other side and see nothing but pain. I want you to know, all your little friends, your drinking buddies, your whores, mistresses, and skanks, your sad little posse, your pervy creepy friends, not one came for you.
I would let you die alone, but I had to get this last one in. There will be no one for you. Look at me old man. You’re all skin and bones. Your last act on earth will restore my faith in God and fate and humanity.
Karma got you old man. You’ll go sick and ugly and forgotten. We will get all your money. I’ll bring a bulldozer to your house. I’ll paint the Jag pink, smoke weed in your chair. It has been 8 years to the day. 8 years since I first saw you drunk, 8 since I first hated you, 8 and here we are.
When your heart gives out, and the darkness crowds in, I hope you beg for forgiveness, and all you hear is me laughing. Like you laughed the day you left us out in the cold. Like you laughed when I begged on my knees for college fees. You will say you are sorry, anything for a second chance, anything to make amends.
On the other side, there will be no light, no angels singing. In this life, the life you boozed away, I will have a party. Don’t cry old man, you had a shit run anyway. You were a paranoid, alcoholic bully. You were a pathetic little coward. And you deserve this coward’s death. Buried without a wreath, on a cold misty day. A council worker will toss your withered body into a plywood coffin and sink it into the earth. So die, old man.