What are you?
Slowly I turned towards the dark figure that was coming closer
Step by step
My emotions were twisted in two,
Love and hatred for this strange
Beautiful creature, intent on killing me
Who was he?
Better yet what was he?
The closer he came, the more I wanted to run
But couldn’t, his eyes held my gaze.
As he took the last step in,
Closing the space between us
I let out a cry of pain,
But all I felt was tears on my neck
I felt sympathy for the creature,
But then my vision blurred and all was lost in a sea of hatred
As I desperately cried out one last time
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Love life, live love
I write poetry. What else did you expect?
ii Bmarie_rp
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"Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad."
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow