I have a story
A very gruesome story
One that can't be told
I'm locked away
Form the ones that I love
And the the things that I love
All taken away
I live in a prison
So far far away
Unable to hear anyone's calls
Trapped there I rot
Trapped here I can't even breath
So give me a razor
Hold up my wrist
And let my story be told with a
twist.
YOU ARE READING
Ramble
PoetryMe going of ranting in poems and warning! This gets depressing and rage inducing. And sadly very true for many situations.
