Dark Poems

Roses are red, and so is blood. . .


16. 16.



There's a cold dark corner

in the back of my room,

it speaks to me

and says I'm coming for you.

As I lie on my bed

in the fetal position,

my eyes are closed

hoping and wishing.

Maybe that one day

my dreams will come true,

that I don't have to be here

so down and blue.

The corner keeps talking

about how I'm going to die,

all I can do

is lie there and cry.


As the corner gets closer

and takes me in,

my soul starts to burn

as so does my skin.

My bones shall lie there

turning to dust,

my bed surrounding

nothing but rust.


Pain will forever pierce me

Sharp like a knife

And here I will lay

In the dark corner of life


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