Cuts

Cuts

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


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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

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

Author

undead demon
undead demon

Dowling, MI



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