The Most Beautiful Human.

Not very far from here

Next door-another house-haunted castle

There was the boy

Black hair

Green eyes

Red cheeks

Bloody red

Just like his hands

 

Every day he sat down

And played with his dolls

Sky blue

Sun burning

Light breeze

Birds chirping

Beautiful 

 

He would go inside to eat

To sleep

To bath

To shower

To kill

Kill whoever deserved it

 

Very nice kid

If you didn’t know him

you’d greet him

But now you don’t

You’ve heard it

The scream

You’ve seen it 

The blood

 

Running like the river

The boy dumped his mother’s 

Corpse

Not a tear being shed

Smile on his face

Sharp eyes

They cut blood-vessels

 

Graveyard his playground

He doesn’t go there to mourn

In fact he would live there

If he could

Lock himself there

So, nobody could see him

 

He was never wanted

He was the lightning

He was the door’s creaking 

He was the knife

He was the killer

He was the hallucination

He was the fear

He was the person behind you

Waiting to cut

Your

Throat.

Reviews

[Anthony Phillips Schepi..]

Thanks for sharing this poem, Chelsea. The irony between the title and the content was interesting. But then I see it played out as what people would believe to be a nice boy was a killer. It has a dark feel but, at the same time, some depth. The last paragraph was strong. I enjoyed it. Keep writing!-Anthony

[Chelsea.]

Thank you so much!!!

[T.S. Ulmus]

I love when someone can do dark and creepy well, and you definitely went off into your own direction here. The freedom to not conform to the norms of poetic forms is always refreshing. The use of second person in only the fourth stanza comes across powerfully. Good write, good job, welcome to the WC.

[Chelsea.]

Thank you so much!!!!