They say second chance,
and to be fair,
some say give mercy,
others, show care.
Well I say,
let it all out,
let the blood shed.
Don't keep it bottled up,
packing in more and more,
of the anger and betrayal,
of lies,
you are unable.
To hold tight to the cork,
even more - even more.
Every little spider,
walking across,
bound to make it shatter,
bound to make it gloss.
Little shards of glass,
sharp - light.
Little shards of glass,
only takes one night,
for blood to get shed.
Poor spider.
In a blood bed.
YOU ARE READING
Loner thoughts
PoetryHi, my names Red Life, I write poems. I wanted to make a book of all my poems about different things I felt and what went inside my head. If you relate to any of these. I know sorry doesn't do nothing. But I am. I am sorry.
