I'm going to be a bloodsucker.
And one day bite your fucking neck.
I hope you bleed your liters.
And I'll drag your body to rot.
You'll whisper in your whimpering voice...
his name...
And I'll look at you in evil.
Rip that vein out of your neck
a second time.
I hope you die this time.
What?
You think he'll get away from me?
Oh but you'll see...
He's next for a vampire to seek...
But until then...
die you fucking bitch.
BLEED... BLEED... BLEED...
Good poets have flexability. This poem shows the anger and the power that words can paint. Revenge seems to be the underlying theme.
Hey, I like it.
It has alot of spirit.
Only talented poet's can use such creativity.
Good luck!