Watching the blood go down the drain,
I wonder who I have become.
Same hair, same voice, same eyes,
But there's something else inside.
A monster, a killer or maybe a ghost,
No, it isn't, it's not anymore.
That thing inside is me,
Or who I have become.
Same hair, same voice, same eyes,
But there's something else inside.
YOU ARE READING
Random Poems/Other
PoesíaLove poems, sad poems, action poems. Every poem. Suggestions are appreciated.
