Run along home now, little child
You're far too delicate for these woods
A big bad wolf will come and tear and gnaw
'Till you're nothing but red
Step back from the ledge, little child
You're far too impulsive for these hills
A strong, mighty wind will blow and blow
'Till you're nothing but red
Hush now and be quiet, little child
You're far too loud for these wee hours
A tall angry clock will tick and tock
'Till you're nothing but red
Stop taking more servings, little child
You're far too wide for these doorways
A fat man will come and gobble you up
'Till you're nothing but red
Do nothing, say nothing, little child
You're far too childish for this house
I'll break in and take all your freedom
'Till you're nothing but red
Help me, help, I am but a little child
I'm far too useless for this empty place
Please, they'll beat me if you don't help
'Till I'm nothing but red
YOU ARE READING
Twisted Dreams
PoetryA collection of short stories, poems, and half-written ramblings. ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 dream \ ˈdrēm \ 1 : a series of thoughts, visions, or feelings that happen during sleep ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 night·m...
