Killing with words you seem to take pride
False are your accusations , you stifle my mind
So much you hate and so little time
You keep pushing on me , keep pushing me down
No glory to come from what you derive
People are pawns for your sick little mind
Just what will you harvest when its your time
A field of hate that becomes your own mind
Old and alone in your due time
Eaten up with the misery you wanted to be mine
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Author:
blacksheepBob (
Offline) - Published: December 22nd, 2017 10:14
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments1
Wonderfully done 🙂
thank you for reading .
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