The pillow poem (Speak soft, screach and smuther)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Well the other name I had for this poem was

My death, my hand, your problem. Clean me up!

Submitted: April 11, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 11, 2008

A A A

A A A


Numbing the pill,

And scilenceing the weak,

Makeing me feel different,

Makeing me feel meek.

Find refuge in my pitty,

Be comforted I don't speak,

It's unwilling man slaughter,

To off the peace in me.

Whats left for me is broken,

And here to show me how is nobody.

Uterly alone, emphasis on the E.

But altogether who really gives a WHAT about me

All I want to know

is that he still loves me.

Pillow smuther

Pillow speak

Pillow soft

Pillow screach.

Numbing the pill,

social rejection,

Where do I go?

Don't I get protection?


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