Roses are red, violets are blue, I've got a secret that I will never tell you.
I'll give you a hint, it starts with a blade, deep down in skin but red soon to fade.
It starts with a yell, and then with a cry.
It doesn't hurt bad but I want to die.
One two three four, red from my wrist drips, drips the floor.
oh how I can't take this anymore.
So i cry and cry and think about what might happen next in life.
It's hopeless, I'm out of time.
...I choose to die...
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Poetry don't you dare tell
PoetryFeelings are from the inside to out. These poems are about little things in life that come with a twist.
