My Only Way
Samara
My Mommy did not like me,
She put me in a well.
But when she did, she inspired me
To invoke some living hell.
My only way to communicate
Is make my nightmare tape;
With this I kill the innocent-
When I decide their fate.
My pure white dress is murky brown
And in this well I rot,
But it's better here than where I lived
And could only sleep on a cot.
My victims may only escape my torture
If they copy my treasure,
And if they do, I'll let them go-
I'll even do it with pleasure.
So now you might understand me,
I really hope you do.
You'd better make my copy,
Or the next murder will be you.