Villian Poems - Poems about Villian

Why do I paint myself the villain? Why do I see everyone else as a saint? What makes them so great? I know I make mistakes, But don't they? Why do I paint myself the villain? Why do we think others do no wrong, But we ourselves do? What makes them so great? The mind knows how to play, and make us 'feel grey'. We try...

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Germany is sinking, Germany wallows low, Having swallowed the (green agenda) they've Nowhere else you know.? Into the swamp in Free fall, covered in old geen slime, they didn't Look round about them, or check that all was fine They've switched of all the power ignored their Brightest minds, and now they'll turn to Putin They need an energy life...

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BACK TO HELL DAMN YOU! Oh you bad, nasty, vicious Virus, You have taken my inspiration away, I have asked my muse for help, But she has gone to a remote Island did not want to stay. So I sit by my computer, Thinking what shall I write? No, start once more, this Is not at all right! Ah – yes that's a good...

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Like Alaster Moody, You never fail to surprise me with your various sides. Like Klaus Mikealson, You hurt, but you care deep down. Like the white witch, You desire to concur, yet you haven't figured out how. Like the mad scientist, You tend to experiment with your feelings and end up tangled. but for every villain there's a redemption. And yours too would find...

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We are friends, becoming more intimate Staring as the campfire is popping and cracking Watching the tiny glimpses of yellows and oranges Trying to peer through the greyness that was once a log. You are telling me some things you would never tell me In the day time, or without the wine but it is a cold night. We have finished...

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When first freed from mother's skirt, still arrayed in white, dew kissed, peach sweet, blush cored, I dove into love, Persephone pierced; where ox-eyed daisies grew within a field abreast a Roman ... in daylight. Dry merlot overcast the blooded spot on site where passion flowered upon the box stitched blue quilt Grandmother with constancy had imbued. Yet,...

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