It feels so good to be writing again! My exams are almost over, so I can start my usual poem craze!:D I classify the world into three groups, and this poem is a segment of one classification. There are different kinds of people in the world, and this poem represents one kind:)
You have the prettiest voice on earth,
But the words you say don’t compliment it.
Wait, I’m not even sure if they’re words;
They’re like thorns in roses, the curse in the gift.
It wouldn’t matter if you insulted,
Like a normal horrible person would.
No, your danger comes from the sick sweetness,
That simply oozes out of your voice as much as they could.
I’m still trying to find the magic to it,
It doesn’t seem natural or real.
No, was it supposed to be a blessing?
Or a meeting with the devil, a signed deal?
Your voice holds the key to manipulation,
As your words lock the victim in place.
Your tone pierces, stings, stabs, or slaps,
While your rhythm keeps the torture without haste.
You twist the victim’s mind into your slush,
And clear out any rational, sane thinking.
You form your palace there and sit upon your throne,
Enjoying your fake breeze and installed sun shining.
When you’re done playing your little puzzles,
You release your hold on the deceased flesh.
You throw back the freedom you stole,
And claim that it’s all a simple test.
Well, darling, I’m not letting you control me,
I’ve learned and memorized my lessons.
I’ve downloaded the data, filed the information,
And my weakest chink would have to be my defenses.
Sweetheart, you ain’t fooling me with your flowery words,
I’ve got the game plan in my head.
Baby, you ain’t breaking my will,
For it’s already broken, full of hate.