I see you eat my little black cake that I baked.
I look at you choke at the picnic table I made.
I clean up the mess you make and leave you empty because you did not finish my little black poison cake.
You left me starved. Choked me with no sentence to say.
Pity my revenge is no virtue.
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When you feel used and abused, you retaliate against them, or you think you do, though you're the one getting hurt again. You're the one picking up the pieces and cleaning the mess. All he does is lay there dead. Comment your thoughts and interpretations :)
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My Night-time Poetry
PoetryI sometimes write poems at night when I'm feeling too inspired to sleep, so this is my poem dump for when I can't sleep at 04:07 AM on a saturday. Please enjoy, and keep in mind this is just a side night hobby of mine, not perfect or professional in...
