Myself
You ask me to look inside myself,
To see beyond me,
And welcome something else,
But if I were to truly look deep,
There are dark things,
That creep,
And crawl,
Tormented and demented,
They snarl,
Because within me,
Is the monster I choose not to be,
An arrogance and malevolence,
I shall never set free,
They rattle at their cages,
Screaming unabashedly for ages,
If I were a book,
There'd be burnt pages,
And molded words,
Of screams unheard,
So I have to ask,
Do you really want to hear my words?
Copyright © Charli Pitts | Year Posted 2015
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