Behind the house,
in the dark hole.
I sit and pray,
while no one knows.
Oh so dark,
the buckets tinted.
Crimson red,
a memory I inflicted.
The shiney metal,
surrounds the walls.
I peel it to peices,
hopeing it will fall.
The bits of rust,
easly panitrate.
Leaving scars,
but no one can relate.
The rope,
its all my veins.
Twisted,
like a sick game.
The sweet water,
is oh so thick,
Darks red in color,
its like no other.
Behind the house,
in the dark hole.
Lives a monster,
who wont let go.
WISHING WELL
Author notes
Well the poem explains itself. i hope you enjoy what i wrote...
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Comments
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thank you....the last stanza is my favorite...it goes well with the first one...Thank you
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Great, really great. I like how you based it on the wishing well idea. The last stanza is my favorite. It's so true for many people. This is such a good poem. Well done poet.
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