Dream catcher

Status: Finished

Dream catcher

Status: Finished

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Dream catcher

Poem by: viktorieah

Genre: Horror

Houses:

Poem by: viktorieah

Details

Genre: Horror

Houses:

Summary

This was written a few weeks after I read Stephen King's Dreamcatcher. So erm...enjoy or laugh or whatever!

Summary

This was written a few weeks after I read Stephen King's Dreamcatcher. So erm...enjoy or laugh or whatever!

Content

Submitted: April 26, 2014

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Content

Submitted: April 26, 2014

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Dreamcatcher

Same Shit, Different Day No Bounce, No Play

I sought death because I wanted to die, But instead, I got lights in the sky

Sometimes you believe in nothing but the darkness You killed them using their weakness

Beaver and the toothpicks, Pete and the booze Why Jonesy, when you had me to choose?

No head, black eyes and a mouthful of teeth Death came looking for him but missed him in the street

Is it Schizophrenia? Paranoia? Or is he just insane? Whatever it is, he's immune. There's no red in his mane

But he's there, trapped in that room from our past With all these emotions that never last

You've invaded him, put his mind under quarantine Would he live? Would he see another valentine?

Go back to when life was about you and scooby doo Hate it cause they never change their clothes and shoes too

I wish you killed Rick and all he brought with him Then this would have been one big nasty dream

Is that a rash? Or a frostbite? No, its ripley. Its the bryus Its the disease. Its the virus.

Don't hurt us, we're helpless, there's no infection here - all lies! Hold your breath when his head explodes and close your eyes.

Kill them all, spare not a cock or a cunt This is war, its much more than an ET hunt

Leave Hole-in-the-wall and run You don't need booze or gas, you need bacon

Because you are a disease, you are cancer. And when you call the phone, I won't answer.

Who can save us? Jonesy? Blue boy? Duddits? Its duddits, our dreamcatcher, isn't it?

Find Josie, save the girl Find Jonesy, save the world

I hear you cry, duddits, but what can I do? Beaver's dead so there's no one to sing for you.

Where do we find you? Are you in Derry? Or are you waiting patiently at the Retard Academy?

Till then, give me a yellow can of Sparx and a box of wooden matches Let me burn the house down with all its red patches.

Because I shot you but you left your eggs, your offsprings Mighty Christ bananas, they crawl like they have wings

Maybe in future someone will say, \"time slowed and reality bent, On and on the eggman went.\"


© Copyright 2016 viktorieah. All rights reserved.

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