Sick

He walks into the room,
He see's nothing but red.
It's not red paint,
Her body lyes on the bed.

Cold and lifeless,
He says, "What have I done?
I really didn't mean it.
This is what I've become."

He takes the shovel from the closet.
He digs a hole and down she goes.
Not quite six feet but deep enough.
It'll be okay, no one has to know.

He's now rocking in a chair.
Swears the ceiling is breathing,
The walls are closing in.
His thoughts again become very decieving.

Crazy is for the dog's,
Insane for those kept away.
Cruel for man with out feeling,
Evil for the ones who don't pray.

Blood was all he could see.
His hands shaking from the Rush.
Not knowing who to be anymore,
Again he hears her skull crush.

Flashbacks again creeping in his head.
Leaking like a propain tank ,
It's slowly approaching a match.
They set fire and it's more than he can take.

BOOOOOM!!

Author's Note

Just a crazy thought I guess. =)

Reviews

[Rachel DeHart]

I really love how you built up to the end... the whole beat through the poem is very very strong, and your wording it perfect.
I like these lines
"Crazy is for the dog's,
Insane for those kept away.
Cruel for man with out feeling,
Evil for the ones who don't pray. "

The most. They are very very clever. :]
Greattttt work.

[EpicKizzy]

i realy likk this one it has a nice flo all the way to the end ♥

[Psyche]

Great dark story/poem. Very Edgar Allen Poe-ish, which I saw is one of your inspirations. I think you have the creepy dark side of yourself down pat. Now normally I don't lower myself to spelling or grammar errors, as I think the substance of what you write is the point. But...well....the English major I once was won't let this irksome misspell be...you said propain, and it's propane, but for all I know you did that on purpose. I would love to see some more of your crazy thoughts, I guess it's just nice to see someone who suffers like me. Keep it up! You've definitely got something going here.