Sense Sonnet - Chiller

 I'll Be Damned

Be damned be all the be good stuff

Shoved down my throat in Sunday school.

Bible thumpers, I had enough.

To hell with the trite Golden Rule.

Oh, I pretended that I be

A pious sort with giving soul.

I let no one really know me.

Taking from others was my goal.

And then one day I up and died.

The whole town came to pay respects.

Closed coffin, it was dark inside,

Hard to fathom that I was ex.

The devil came for me in search

As I was buried by the church.