YesterdaysNews
July 19th, 2009, 05:17 PM
Runaway
you see the door
just down the hall
youve though of it before
just to runaway and lose it all
theres the knife
in the kitchen drawer
just take away your life
be released from the horror
you grab the knife
walk out the door
runaway from this life
youve done it before
you place the blade to your neck
the cool metal on your skin
you look like a wreck
a lost soul trapped within
you remember the faces
of the people you know
if your blood was wasted
where would it go?
would they cry?
how could you tell?
theres no way to know why
since you killed yourself so well.
Biased Games
he comes to me
I tell him no
I tell him to leave
but he doesnt go
he grabs my arm
as I push him away
he says he'll do no harm
its better this way
he throws me down
and climbs on top
I try to scream
but he doesnt stop
when he's done
he just walks away
sometime soon
I'll make him pay
I lay on the floor
bloody and cold
silent tears come down my face
his game is getting old.
*** my poems are dark, I was really depressed when I wrote them. Biased Games Is NOT WRITTEN BASED ON EXPEIRENCE. I have not been abused in anyway, sexually or physically***
you see the door
just down the hall
youve though of it before
just to runaway and lose it all
theres the knife
in the kitchen drawer
just take away your life
be released from the horror
you grab the knife
walk out the door
runaway from this life
youve done it before
you place the blade to your neck
the cool metal on your skin
you look like a wreck
a lost soul trapped within
you remember the faces
of the people you know
if your blood was wasted
where would it go?
would they cry?
how could you tell?
theres no way to know why
since you killed yourself so well.
Biased Games
he comes to me
I tell him no
I tell him to leave
but he doesnt go
he grabs my arm
as I push him away
he says he'll do no harm
its better this way
he throws me down
and climbs on top
I try to scream
but he doesnt stop
when he's done
he just walks away
sometime soon
I'll make him pay
I lay on the floor
bloody and cold
silent tears come down my face
his game is getting old.
*** my poems are dark, I was really depressed when I wrote them. Biased Games Is NOT WRITTEN BASED ON EXPEIRENCE. I have not been abused in anyway, sexually or physically***