Fall,
fall.
He's falling.
He's alone,
with a touch of insanity.
He'll kill anyone in sight,
he knows he'll be gone soon.
Without him,
they struggle.
Flaring anger
and a sense of loss.
Who would stand for this boy?
He has done nothing wrong,
nothing to deserve this.
The wicked thoughts fight his system,
the calmness lost in the dark.
His friends grieve his loss
too soon.
Please,
please.
YOU ARE READING
Who I Am
PoetryA collection of lyrical poetry to describe who I see myself as, who others see me as, and other pieces I have the desire to create through my own creativity.
