Ciara Wood Poems

You can see it in his slow, proud walk,
And hear it when he starts to talk,
He has seen many disturbing horrors never to share
Some so twisted and demented it will curl your hair.
...

Abruptly starring into the eyes of a beast,
Sullenly wondering what happens once you’re deceased.
Looking for an answer, for some kind of way out,
Holding this knife, with a mind full of doubt.
...