A Poem by undead demon

My blood is falling.
A razor is flying.
Cuts are deep and thriving.
My heart beat is dying.

A kid never loved.
Beat down has no trust.
He savors the pain.
Thinking that cutting is a must.

Sobs emitted, tears shed.
The depression gets bigger.
A barrel of a gun to his head and his finger on the trigger.

A boy thrown away.
No parents love.
Will never come to play. 
As death holds him like a glove.

© 2014 undead demon

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register


As you know Undeaddemon, this poem relates to me all to well. If you're ever thinking about it though please tell me. Your are one of my closest friends and i don't want to lose you.

Posted 4 Years Ago

This is hopeless, how can he feel so destitute, I know I have felt this way too, but why? There's no reason we should get so destitute. Not when there are nice things to get like gloves.

Posted 4 Years Ago

very deep, good emotion for a reader you have some talent with the pen

Posted 5 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

undead demon

5 Years Ago

Thanks relates to my past

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


3 Reviews
Added on September 22, 2014
Last Updated on September 22, 2014


undead demon
undead demon

Dowling, MI

Avid reader I write for fun and don't appreciate a**holes more..