My dear
What are you doing here?
Haven’t they warned you?
This is a dangerous place
Not one for child’s play
Didn’t they tell you?
Sweet naive child
With aura so mild
They’ll chase you
Welcome to your nightmare.
YOU ARE READING
bottled up thoughts
Poesíathoughts into words, words into scribbles. copyright © 2014 quixotical [poetry #439/ random #902]
