He is a writer and no one reads his writing
He write pages and paragraphs and all he ask for in return is just a little feedback
from the people he has given positive responses too
but no one replies
its like his work does not matter
it like all his efforts in are in vain
WHY DOESN'T HE JUST WRITE ALL HIS THOUGHTS STORIES AND EVERYTHING
ON A SHEET OF PAPER AND FLUSH THEM DOWN THE DRAIN !
THAT WAY IT WILL BE EASIER FOR HIM TO UNDERSTAND EVERYTHING HE WRITES IS CRAP !
that no one wants to read
he ask other to read his trash and they act like hes leading them into trap !
so he gave up asking others and the "if you have time would ya just read" plead.
He's a musician and damn good one at that! but no listens to his songs
maybe he should give up meaningful music AND WRITE SONGS ABOUT PROMISCUOUS SLUTS IN THONGS !
Just give up creativity and give the people what they hear
Shucks he might write a song about a beibered vampire name Pierre
if he wrote that he could see them now
THE BLAND DEAF MASSES WOULD SCREAM AND CHEER ! RIGHT? ! HURRAH! HURRAH!
That's what they'd say
Hes man and no woman wants his heart
the number times he been rejected is truly of the charts
If he didn't have enough problems being fat and ugly
and poor and live in a attic over his mommy ! LIKE A DAMN BAT !
WHY GOD WOULD MAKE MAN SO PATHETIC IS WHAT HE SCREAMS IN HIS PRAYERS EVERYDAY
but if he went on you wouldn't get what he was trying to say
but the thing on that subject
He lives a psychological hell that so sick and so miserable and so DARK AND SO NEVER ENDING THAT SOMETIMES MAKES YOU WONDER WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PURPOSE FOR STILL BREATHING WHEN YOU HAVE SOMEONE WHOSE INTENTIONALLY RUINING EVERY OPPORTUNITY YOU MIGHT EVER HAVE BURDENING YOU WITH THEIR DEATH
that if Freud took my case he'd give up the project !
Hes a man but sometimes he wonders
He doesn't feel like a man
he doesn't live like man
He feels like an animal
he lives like one to
he feels his life force flicker and fade
in his heart the cold winds of failure, regret, RESENTMENT,mediocrity, the whispers of hate that blows ice wind on his life force almost snuffing it out.
his days are filled with depressing tediousness and nights full of nightmares from the dreads of continuing life
his breath gets slower and slower each day and instead of waiting for it to take him out he decides to go on his own terms.
the noose he made of a belt tightens and choke his breath
soon he will be scythed by death
with his last few minutes he SCCCCCCCCRRRREEEEEEEAAAAAAMMMSS!!!!!!!
he screams with everything thats left
he screams and kick the door he hung the belt to
he screams so loud mirror and windows break
he screams so powerfully the earth shakes as he screams and his soul finally leaves his body.
when hes found days later not on human soul heard his scream
when he arrived in hell he was tortured beyond regular standards and screamed in great agony
all his screaming and his voice was recognized by only one person ,Satan, who replied
"You have a unique voice such a pity you hung yourself and died."
© Copyright 2016 Psychosis The Tormented . All rights reserved.
Short Story / Horror
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
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