I am beautiful, the prettiest to ever walk the land. People try to help
Me.
I
Never understood why. Can't
They see how perfect I am? How I live
In happiness, in luxury? There is no need to tell me you like
Me, that you admire me. I don't need empty compliments, or real compliments. My life is fine like this.
No- my life is perfect like this. It's amazing- I have friends, luxuries, beauty- I don't have to ask for any
More.
Not that I wouldn't mind more. My
Wishes and dreams don't make me vain, no matter how many say it. I don't even use my mirror
That often. People still try to help me. Why? Is
A perfect life a broken
Life? My life will be perfect forever.
❤️A note from the mind of Horror❤️- If this doesn't seem like a poem, or you're confused why it's called Behind the Mask, or you're confused about the layout of the poem, try to find the secret poem buried in here. It's not that hard to find, if you look close enough. 😉
YOU ARE READING
Black Abyss
PoetryA collection of poetry that covers issues from all over the world, issues that strike everyone's lives. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you find meaning in the words I scrawl on this page. ❤️ --- Thanks a ton to LYNWAH for being such a wonderful friend...
