Up the stairs went molly Pratchett,
in her hands a little hatchet.
Squealing loud in girlish glee,
at all the gore that she'll see...
Slowly down the hall she crept,
to the room where her parents slept.
She raised the hatchet over her head
and slowly tiptoed over to their bed...
She sank the hatchet into their heads
until alas they were dead....
Now she sits in a padded cell
where they keep here very well.
They closed the door then they latched it
This ends the tale of molly Pratchett,
OR DOES IT?.................................
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 4:21 PM UTC
To err is human
To forgive divine
They say I will in time
The choice is mine
The wounds I have are unseen
Unknown to those
Without knowledge
Of my story
My history
My pain is real
My heart broken
Wounded
No wonder I can't trust
How can I
How do I know
I trusted once
I nearly lost myself to darkness
I have been found again
One who loves me
Without strings
Explanation
Or obligations
But still
I'm unsure
CAN I TRUST???
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 3:40 PM UTC
You tried to give me roses,thorns pricking my fingers like your many lies.
A shattered heart a broken promise.
You gave yourself to others, like I. was invisible.
No substance
I'm fading from your view
watching you walk with her
holding her close
you lied.
the blood flowing in rivers from my pricked finger like my tears.
the roses shedding petals in a carpet around my feet.
I saw you give her roses i saw the tears down her cheeks like the rivers that once flowed down mine.
I saw her fall to her knees the thorns pricking her the very same way.
you claimed another victim
you stabbed us with your lies and our fingers bled our sorrow.
she saw you with another
another to fall
another to give roses
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 3:28 PM UTC