The tears run freely,
down my cheeks,
salty water,
taste of pitty.
Monsters in conners,
waitting for pray.
In shadows,
they creep,
like slippery snakes.
They hiss 'cause they're hungry,
for their next victim,
or two.
Pray on the scared,
little mice,
and bats,
in the halls.
They're something,
they cause deaths,
laughing with no harm.
But it kills,
with no doubt,
the mice, and the bats,
'cause when they try,
to fight back,
they just ge,
tackled down.
Down under the sea.
Down under the graves.
Down under the toture.
Down under the deaths.
BY:Raegan Landry
YOU ARE READING
Mindful poems
PoetrySo, I don't usually write anymore. But sometimes I do get in my feelings and write something that ends up going here. So enjoy and please if you ever feel down and like this talk to someone don't be like me and keep it all in.
