Tiresome Tears

In my youth I always cried easily,

I’d cry until I was puffy and wheezily.

I’d cry over toys to over my sister,

The tears in my eyes always seemed to glister.

So many tears I’ve cried in my youth,

No one ever thought it was worth to sleuth.

 

Now as I’m a newly-born adult,

My conscious reveals to me it’s occult.

With the help of my mother and her neglect,

I have now firgured out why I’m always a wreck.

Always alone and always put last,

All of these emotional flaws have amassed.

Now the littlest things can make me cry,

From a homeless man to not having pie.

 

The saddest part is that she doesn’t know,

All the mental anguish she always bestows.

She keeps on living happily and fully,

Not knowing that in my mind she’s a bully.

So I cry more everytime she denies me love,

Until a day when my blood covers my hand like a glove.

Emotional Graphic Loneliness My Personal Life Pain Poetry

Post Apocalypse Nusery Rhyme #002 My Colourful World

I love my world full of colour. In the sky and on the ground. There are so many colors I can’t count them all, but these are my favorite colours of them all.

The brown of the sea as far as the eyesees.

The gray of the sky is all that can be spied.

The red on the ground of the ones that were found.

The green of the monsters that make one a goner.

The yellow of the sun is the only time to have fun.

The pink of the guts of the ones that went nuts.

The blue of the eyes that show that one has died.

The purple of the bruises of those who are accused.

The white of the snow that hide monsters down below.

The black of the blood that spew out of monsters like a flood.

 

 

 

Death Graphic Nusery Ryhmes Pain Supernatural Twisted Meanings