"Reds, and redheads..."
I cut myself out of anger and sorrow,
Out of redhead hermoine granger and her knowledge I couldn't borrow,
I was in danger and I didn't see past tomorrow,
I just thought redheads were a game changer even if I went through a horror.
Reds and redheads,
It's like the needle to methheads,
It's like street meds for undercover feds,
It's like hating red, but loving a redhead.
Red is anger, hatred, and blood
The only redhead wasn't how I thought she was ,
And I let myself hurt over what happened because...
I never felt good enough that I don't deserve any love,
But now I know, I'm as free as a fucking set free dove,
And you, you redhead your a deadass dun get the fuck outta here XD.
YOU ARE READING
Letters To The Writer: Volume 1
PoetryJust me writing poems, can be sad, can be happy, matters about he day and what I'm writing about. This is really for me but if you like it a share, vote, comment would be much appreciated, thank you.
