{Title inspired by MCR}
As the people line up
To see the freak show,
I've already run away;
I felt the need to go.
As I sit behind the tent,
Hearing the crowds cheer,
I can't help but let out
A lonely tear.
As I pull out my weapon,
A glittering silver knife,
I convince myself that I'm
Ready to end this life.
As the crowd laughs at them,
I feel them laughing at me;
It seems that my misfortune
Has given them glee.
As I dig the knife in,
It turns my flesh red,
And the crowds are still laughing,
Only now I'm dead.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryI wrote poems regularly for about two years to get me through a particularly hard time on my life, and here they are. (Don't read if swearing/possible triggers are a problem for you.)
