RyanWrites

Poetry#1

God scripted my way down south

And I don\'t want to go back home,

Darkness is my serenity don\'t you see

The illusions of bad is the norm for me

Because I tried to succeed but I\'m blown every time,

And every time I fall I hear the soul chime

Then I have an urge for pain; a final bedtime.

 

It\'s as if I\'m cursed like a kindled gulf of fire

Burning my ashes overtime as I get older

The church is looming, I sense the welcoming choir

I\'m the green-eyed monster of every ones smile

I o\'er rauhot my emotions by thinking suicidal

Vindictive, wall-eyed at people as I stand idle.