They're the rogues of the street, assassins of the night,
Burying the knife beneath skin, stitching it together tight,
Leaving a scar of deadly sins, littering their faces with cloth,
Eyes inflicting the slightest shadow, flying by, an insipid moth,
Cracking the ice of lethal disease, beneath a melting past,
What they once called was common sense, wrapping a defenceless cast,
Believing fallacies, 'kill or be killed', true victims of the world,
Underneath is a dying waif, beneath a shadow he curled,
Skin as soft as saccharine peaches, hands as cold as heart,
The earth has tainted an innocent child, penetrating him like a dart.
YOU ARE READING
Reminisce
Poetry~ Words leak through minds, like too much ink does to paper. They spread silently like diseases and blossom like the non-existent amaranthine in spring. ~ (COVER NOT MINE) (All rights reserved) (A collection of rhyming poems. Part 2 out now) (Hig...
