PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He walks uncomfortably, like he's not in his own skin
his face looks starved and unhealthily thin
his face is the evilest one, but hides a hope of change
his smell is a good one but its also strange

he wares what he want's, not a care for another's opinion
his face is like his body, scary and very thin
I am watching him from behind a bush
to the side, the greasy black mess, you push

no halo in sight but no angel does anymore
it was to show which side you were living for
now they wear the neclace that reaveal the side
it was the three numbers that he was never afraid to hide

he was a lone wolf with his only friend, the black raven wings
to his back the seemed to barely wanting to cling
they are so tortured looking that they will kill you out of spite
they are luring me in to take a fatal bite, to bring me to a torture chamber
ready to take me there, than laugh my pathetic last prayer

being mortal makes me able to be decevied to join them in flight
his deceitful wings, i want to make them trust me and not to fight