One, Two
She looked at her shoe
Three, Four
Who's at the door?
Five, Six
It's men with sticks
Seven, Eight
It's too late
Nine, Ten
Oh No, She's dead again
This is the rhyme of the dead little girl
The dead little girl died long ago
A/N: Twisted nursery rhymes... I need to get a life. Or not.
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Inner Silence
PoëzieThe inner silence is always there. Waiting. watching. recording. Recording the chaos and misery of my existence. A collection of depressing poems of my life.
