I never liked Sundays
I mean, because of sunday nights
I used to have terrible nightmares
Where I was stripped of all my rights
They were really weird
Still can't explain
There was a chopper, a 4in row game
And tons, tons of rain
Death threats he used to do
And even not being real
I used to wake up crying, doomed
One more Sunday and I'd go insane
Sunnights
No lights
Nightmares causing real scars
Real scares
Sunnights
Are never sound
Nightmares every week
There was no way around
Sunnights
I was so young
I used to wake up so scared
Something was really wrong
He even cheated
The guy on my dreams
If I dared to lose the game
I would hear my family screams
That was not fair
That was not right
I used to stop breathing, although there was air
In a damned Sunday night
Now everything's okay
It stopped
Now I sleep a little better
Somehow, that monster is now locked
I don't know when
Or why
It just stopped
And I happily wave my hand and tell him to die
Sunnights
No lights
Nightmares causing real scars
Real scares
Sunnights
Are never sound
Nightmares every week
There was no way around
Sunnights
I was so young
I used to wake up so scared
Something was really wrong
YOU ARE READING
Little Big Somethings
PoetryHighest rank: #15 in Snippets 02/12/2018 #36 in Poetry! 04/02/2017 Life is strange, I make it stranger. We need to enjoy the little things! They are big. Does this seem non-sense? Read the line before ;)
