Wicked Heart

And beneath my sooty faceless mask always curving to a half smile, there is an everlasting frown, for I have been sentenced to bear the weight of the world on my shoulders, now, and forever.
Poe and his prose and poetry recoil at the sight of my unpleasing display.
Read and fear.
My poetic tales.
Where end grows near.

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1. Tree

I am a shameful disgrace
I taint the living human race
My family hides from me
Cutting my branch off the family tree
I tried to grow back
But at my roots they did hack

One day I left and disappeared
Away from all the ones I feared
But freedom was not what I hoped
In fact there was even more hate than I had coped
I tied this noose around my neck
Causing this giant wreck

Can I make it to the end
Make life the best feeling half dead
Only so many smiles I have to use
Will I manage to grow as a spruce
For my tree is slowly dying
Nothing cares, not even the sky is crying...






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