The Aunt.
She was the auntie of Happiness.
The cruel one who lived alone.
She didn't talk, just swept.
And captured decibels of her own.
She kept the captured in her basement.
Feeding them nothing but neglect.
Soon the felt nothing but hate.
For the auntie they had met.
But they couldn't see the auntie.
For she never shown her face.
But they could feel her presence near.
Her horrid and cold embrace.
Some of the prisoners did escape.
And a lucky few was set free.
But for the rest of them: they lived.
In the basement of the auntie.
They took out their cruel thoughts.
On no one but their own.
For the auntie cackled evilly.
She had raised them to be alone.
Soon some found a tunnel.
To escape to a better day.
But it involved taking something precious,
Of their own far away.
YOU ARE READING
Scars and Smiles (poetry about depression)
Poetry*A handful of poems that I wrote about suicide/self harm/disorders. Feel free to comment, vote, add, share and even mail me!* Ongoing Series. Enjoy.
