First the girl who sits there, crying there.
You are no worse than the girl that kicked the wasps nest
No worse than she who let the snake bite
Or the lady who left the baby alone with the roaring fire.
And the man, who never learned his manners but must now.
Alone in that cell,
his fingers aren't the only thing that's a meloncholy shade of blue.
But now your maniaclly green with envy.
Falling in and out of the suicidal cycle.
So fast, I don't bother to know where you are anymore.
People aren't knives, they do carve their own part but you don't know that, do you?
Masks are only scary if they surprise you anyway.
And everyone has seen this comedy act time and time again.
You are a killer clown.
So you cry and cry again waiting for you're adoring audience.
Yet no one wants to witness your drama.
For the girl who sits there, crying there...
You cannot fool us anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry. Dark.
PoesíaThis collection of poems is dedicated to anyone who has tried to live but events have led them astray It is a mix of dark, somewhat rediculous and poems of the heart, all written to help myself get through the last couple of months Some of these poe...
