"misrible" poems
The Demons broke down the walls
Now they are celebrating
Yelling, screaming, making me misrible.
They took over my mind
They took over my emotions
They took over my thoughts
Is this my life now?
Living a dead life?
The demons with guns took over,
And now I am truly dead.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 11:46 AM UTC