The Disturbed ; The Unloved

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a poem about a dream I had.. people wait in an alley and stalk you till your dead.Then, you become one of them.

Submitted: October 10, 2008

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Submitted: October 10, 2008

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 We talk about the disturbed,

The way they are unloved,

 We found them in an alley,

Their souls turning into dust.

 We cry and life as their eyes turn red,

 We have nothing else to say.

 It was fun to watch and stay,

but as we leave, we are not alone.

 They follow closely ,

as we get into the car.

 They make sure we don't make it home tonight,

 They didn't give us a chance to fight.

We were gone before morning,

we are now one of them,

We sit in the alley,

as we watch them all laughing.

 They'll be dead soon,

they'll be gone when we first see the moon,

 No one loves us,

we're the disturbed,

the unloved,

The unwilling,

The unforgiving,

We are what you fear,

we are what you hate.

We are the pain.

We are the hurt.

Who's laughing now?

No one.

Silence.

We are the unloved.

The Disturbed.

The ones who sit in the alley,

As we await our next victim.

The one who is laughing.

 We'll be gone though.

Come this morning.


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