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Jul 2012
Bloodstained white walls
Are all that is left
Of my tattered heart

These men in white
Keeping me restrained
Preventing me of tasting freedom

I'll use my own blood
To paint these asylum walls
Just to smile once again

Instead I used their blood
Their screams adding a final touch
To a beautiful masterpiece

I tore their hearts apart
Ripping their eyes out
Growing silent without a tongue

They thought I was weak
Yet when I raged
That crazed strength showed itself

Now I'm confused
I'm at a  lost
Between bloodstained white walls

Not caring who I killed
Yet wondering why
These bodies lay still bleeding

I swore I bled them out
Using every drop
Just to paint these walls

Bloodstained white walls
And unheard screams
Creating my home of sick, twisted masterpieces

I hanged the bodies out
Making a fence
Running barbed-wire through their temples

The crows feast
The vultures stalk
As an evil smile of joy crosses my face

Blood still wets my hands and face
Yet the evil still shows
Not knowing which asylum will be next
though this poem is really sick and twisted, it matched the angered trapped feeling i was in when i wrote this poem.
Robert Guerrero
Written by
Robert Guerrero
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