The fact is: she's not like most girls.
She does't sit around obsessing over her looks or her generally perfect curls.
She loves the rain, and prefers to keep her social skills at a minimum.
But we must make an interim agreement; she's not the girl she seems,
for when she goes to sleep at night, she doesn't have such pleasant dreams.
They're not of princesses or frogs, but they're of demons hiding beneath the fog.
She seeks revenge, on the fringe of her heart;
She feels like her world is slowly falling apart.
but that's not all, you must understand
that she feels like shes lost in a wonderland.
We must save her, but I don't know how.
She says everything is starting to blur, now.
why must they blur? why must they go away?
Its something she and I can't portray.
She's a mystery; that's how it must remain,
Maybe she has a tolerance to the pain.
YOU ARE READING
My Poems (COMPLETED)
PoetryThis is just a series of poems that I write when I'm bored. Some are long, and some are short. Enjoy :)
