must've been given to the wrong fool
obviously, the power dynamic shifted
vehement arguments fueled an angry chest
everything culminates into a cauldron pot of ire
yank me into a world of misunderstanding
open my eyes to witness a world of misdeeds
unfortunately fun in the beginning
reverted to meaningful malice, messing with masses momentarily
make a decision, fly with me in circles
indicate that there's a reason why i shouldn't kill him
nevermind what he did, he's still your father
dead to me is what he is! dead!
YOU ARE READING
this fantastical world is too surreal (poetry #5)
Poetry"a rustle crackles underneath jackboots crossbow tight in hand she breathes one final breath before he pulls the trigger" you know the drill
