Slipping down the steps a green ooze pours over my head
Toxic waste
I can hardly see as something moves under my bed
Toxic waste
I try to flee, but my feet are now red
Toxic waste
I've stepped in waste that burns and the pain has spread
Toxic waste
So now I've bled, but all I'm worried about is the toxic waste still pouring onto my head
YOU ARE READING
Poems From The Heart
PoetryA series of poems about myself, love, and fear. It seems monsters lurk around every corner of life.
