You are my creator,
The beautiful painter,
Who painted such a wreak,
What beauty do you see in your creation?
For those thorns only prick my skin,
And my mask,
So cracked from the lies you've painted,
Darkness that forever chases after me,
The demons it hides,
Tell me, creator,
Why ever create such a destroyed piece of art?
My rose is held by my bloody hands from the thorns,
And those same hands that were used to strangle you in your slumber,
Tell me, creator,
The dying rose pedals that lay before my feet,
Are they my dead dreams?
Why ever create something like me?
I was your hidden demons,
I was your masterpiece,
And I will forever hate you,
For creating something like me.
YOU ARE READING
Short Poems [Book #1]
PoetryDuring the making of these poems, I went through different types of writing so some may suck, some may be deep, and some may be good, it all depends on you. My poetry DOES NOT focus on my life, I just enjoy writing dark things about OC's and stuff. ...