The Massacre of Feelings began not long ago,
Throughout the tall trees, woodland creatures and doe.
Magical skies flickered bright stars for show,
Once picture perfect, favorite photo.

Many have tried, wanting another chance,
Lies and truths spread around and danced.
Every single fib new and enhanced,
Looking to be more advanced.

Trinkets and trophies all present win,
Guilt and grief wanders my skin,
Thinking about what has caused sin,
The story has yet to begin.

Not enough time, too much to tell
Special powers, alluring spell.
Instead of staying caged in dwell,
Finish to start, who's to yell?

Misery provokes sadness and sob,
Which only leads my heart to throb,
Slowly and carefully turning the ****,
Revealing the truth to why we sob.

The Massacre of Feelings returns each year,
Me, myself, I, always living in fear.
What's one or two bottles of wicked *** beer,
Whatever will help me stop the tears.

Cheated a glorious life without hurt,
Should've never believed its worth,
Confidently willing to assert,
One of my many alerts.