Life becomes strenuous
From gifts vile but generous
Words, your serrated blade
Tainted wounds that shall cascade
Blood shifts to liquid sins
That seep through their plastic grins
From their dead eyes tears fall
Pooling with their tortured gall
An army of young death
All howling with their last breath
Remorse due to neglect
To the ones they all deject
Mistakes they'll make no more
As fresh blood begins to pour
Through our bleak school hallways
You’ll rue what you set ablaze
YOU ARE READING
My Thoughts
PoetryHere lie the thoughts of me; in the form of poetry of course because I can't seem to complete a story. Oh well. So these poem will be about all kinds of stuff from horses to inner demons. Some of them are also very short. Enjoy P.S. some of these p...
