All alone, watching others play
Knowing they will never stay
None to look at me and worry
I wish this wasn't my story
To get revenge my time I bide
By red eyes my family died
It was all extremely gorey
I wish this wasn't my story
Pitted against my own sister
Scared, I became a resistor
For my failure, I was sorry
I wish this wasn't my story
Can't fathom why they'd give me love
Their exposed neck, my knife above
That's the night it all went awry
I wish this wasn't my story
YOU ARE READING
Witching Hour: Lost in Thought
PoetryTitled "Witching Hour" because most of my poem ideas come to me way past midnight when I'm trying to sleep. The topics are pretty diverse, but there are definitely things I write about more often than others. Also If you don't like the first few...
