all I am is skin and bones,
with a broken heart beating in my chest.
at me they throw stones,
strip me of the clothes in which I'm dressed.
but they never touched you,
they never saw your skin.
it's turning cold and blue,
as I streak my fingers on your chin.
because what I am is just skin and bones,
and now I've infected you as well.
you will hear their moans,
as they climb up from hell.
they will haunt you,
and you will be screaming in pain.
and all along, you knew,
I was never insane.
Because I was only skin and bones,
my heart was only shatters.
I was crawling behind their thrones,
listening if something they said matters.
it was impossible to reach you, they said,
but I did, I am here.
soon you'll be gone, dead,
and I'll be free without a fear.
YOU ARE READING
rhyming poetry
Poetryjust really bad poetry I write that rhymes. (this is kinda a school project but I also wanted to share it)
