Here is the second poem in the series that I wrote. This one is meant to be from BBs point of view at the very end of the book and after the book ends. :)
Red Eyes
Gasoline, fluid clear as water, smell sharp as broken glass.
Light the match.
Burning, burning , everything I see is the usual tone of red
That red to drive one mad- or to allow one to find true sanity.
The names, the deaths, the times all will die.
That mother who makes soup for her sick daughter
That grandfather who beats his dog.
Both will die. And I am cursed to see. To see death death death
Everywhere. For everyone.
Now I die as well, my eyes screwed shut in pain I don't see the red.
But then I see her name.
They locked me up in this white, white place- though all I see is red.
They say I am crazy
a psychopath,
a serial killer.
I lost the game, I played my cards, because my hand was Bleeding.
My skin is a topographical map of my failures.
They say I am crazy, but I am really not
You seem to not Believe me, perhaps you should come and see me
(certainly I am not going anywhere soon)
We could have a chat
You could hear my story.
And by the end I am sure you would understand, just don't forget to bring me
a jar of strawberry jam.
I was not as happy with this one as with the previous one, so let me know what you think and where I may be able to improve! Hope you still enjoyed it though.
~Dapplepath