Dakota Bordeau

~sick Games~ - Poem by Dakota Bordeau

The pain,
What do I gain?
I suffer every day,
I feel like I am prey,

Sick Games….

There’s a burning flame,
It burns within me,
Am I a single army?

There’s a war form within,
I think I have sinned.

I hear the screams,
They make it seen,
We are like blaspheme.

My pain is so immense,
I put up my defense,
I don’t know why I don’t die,
I barely just pass by.

I run and keep running,
Things you can do are stunning,
Blood runs through every vein,
It’s driving me insane.

So I could write a thousand words,
But now I must spread my wings like the birds.

I’m now free form hate,
Knowing help came too late.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about ~sick Games~ by Dakota Bordeau

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Monday, February 15, 2010

[Report Error]