He would sit by the windowsill,
And think about what a waste of space most people were.
He would plot their murders better than any assassin,
For the people filled him with feelings of anger, sadness and regret.
He'd lost his trust in everyone,
And now he schemes their deaths.
He would orchestrate them tonight,
That the law and order will be flabbergasted.
No one will be able to know that a mass murderer,
Was only an innocent eleven year old.
YOU ARE READING
Epigrams
PoetryIt appears you've found my book and before you decide to read it's contents, know that... These poems are everything that is me. (Also the cover was made by my buddy FierroThorne!)
