Her pretty picture
She paints a pretty picture
But her picture has a twist
You see, the paintbrush is her razor
And her canvas is her wrist
She paints her pretty picture
In a color that's blood red
While using her sharp paintbrush
She ends up finally dead
Her pretty picture's fading
Quite slowly on her arm
The blood's not racing through her
She can no longer do harm
She painted her pretty picture
But her picture had a twist
You see, her mind was her razor
And her heart was her wrist
YOU ARE READING
Sad quotes
PoetryThis is a book that is made up of sad quotes . I give credit to you if you were someone who wrote one or more than one of the quotes I'm using here
