My words are
an empty cookie jar;
one you thought
were full of homemade cookies.
I say what's on my mind;
I don't offer what
they want to hear.
I point out mistakes;
things they need to change
if they don't want to hurt anyone.
My words are poison.
People roll their eyes
and give me petty looks
when I say something
that is clearly
not what they want.
That is why I stay silent.
YOU ARE READING
Dear: Hell
PuisiThe elevator broke now death played with you all night. - Hell's Deal ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Sometimes monsters are real, sometimes Hell is fictional, but both have impacted many lives. So, take seat with some coffee and enjoy this poetry collection.
