I've been a victim,
For a long time.
Nothing is sublime.
I've killed, I've screamed.
I've stabbed, I've dreamed.
I've smoked, I've drank,
I've made a problem,
Out of a prank.
There is a darker,
Side to this world.
There's nothing we can do,
Open your eyes,
To see the world.
Let the poison of reality,
Help you drift away.
I've crushed hoped,
I've brough hell,
To innocent lives.
I regret what I've dont,
And beg for the past.
The past before I realized,
What the world really is.
I long for the shielded comfort,
of the world's facade.
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Comments about this poem (Victimized by Andrew Long )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
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