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Nightmare

A Poem

By Hannah RosePublished 5 years ago 1 min read
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It’s things like long sleeves

In one hundred degrees

You’d think they’d notice

But all they see is the outside

they look at their downside

I’m not there to clean,

but they don’t ask why I’m so lean

I don’t eat,

I can’t sleep

All day I lay in bed

I wish I were dead

Then out comes the blade

the price is paid

for their neglect

I pour out red

I cry, they burn

I toss and turn

Never sleeping

But somehow dreaming

of my escape

is it them or me that I hate?

This is my nightmare

Welcome to my daily scare

Will i do it today?

Can I finally escape?

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Hannah Rose

All of the photography on my posts is my own. I am a different kind of artist, I cant draw, but I see the world through a camera lens, and write from that perspective.

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