Hidden behind a curtain,
So I can't see.
The reflections of things,
that are not me.
-
It's not the still objects,
that have me scared.
It's the things moving,
that aren't really there.
-
Inside the looking glass,
things move about.
They beat on the other side,
trying hard to get out.
-
They always stare at me,
through an evil haze.
Hoping to catch my attention,
With their gaze.
-
Begging me to say the words,
to set them free.
Always aching and wanting,
that killing spree.
-
So I keep it safely hid,
that world from mine.
But I know it wont last forever,
it's just a matter of time.
-
If you find my looking glass,
sealed up tight.
Don't you dare look inside,
or you'll die that night.
YOU ARE READING
Poems and Stuff Part 2
Poetryhere's more poems just for you maybe even a ramble or two you must read at your own risk you never know whacha gonna get
