I thought things would be different,
But I stared at the face of horror because I was too scared to face the truth.
I learned that the truth wasn't just a monster in disguise,
But the blind truth I had corrupted myself to believe.
As I painted this picture of an Angel leaving Hell,
He was actually going back.
No matter how much he'd try to escape that past,
It came back.
The nightmares didn't stop.
The pain didn't leave.
The feeling of hopelessness didn't end.
I think we all know why.
YOU ARE READING
Dreams Over Reality
PoetryA compliation of poems and skits. The skits are no longer being continued. Most poems are about me and the events around me. Read my story This is my story.
