Mother
The wall are red with blood.
Her control is slipping away.
She feeds on everything and anything.
She knows where you hide.
Never upset mother.
Her temper is like fire,
wild and hot.
Don't try to mess with her heart.
Queen of us who are damned.
Maybe she'll rise once again.
No matter what happens.
She'll awake from her slumber.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
