Smiles are faked
lies are said.
there are monsters,
under my bed.
pills are swallowed,
blood is shed.
monsters are sleeping,
under my bed.
suicidal thoughts,
running through my head.
monsters are hiding,
underneath my bed.
sanity's fading,
the sink is red.
monsters are laying,
under my bed.
tears are sliding,
falling ahead.
monsters are now whispering,
inside my head.
pick a coffin,
cold and dead.
monsters planning something,
all beneath my bed.
but they're not,
because they're all in my head.
sick little monsters,
hiding in my head.
------
Food for the dead.
(Not mine)
YOU ARE READING
Dear Friend
PoetryDear friend Dear lover Dear mother Here are some things I could never say. Most of these poems are not mine. Credit will be passed to the owner,please comment if you think it is your poem.
