The Past Poem by chella Death

With a dark past comes with a dark story
it's not cheesey or corny
It's the pain I go through night after night, something that haunts me
believe me and you will see
This is simply and sadly meant to be.
As a dream so blue and the past flying by as it were jet planes
I see halloween pumkins so carved nicely and chritmas candy canes
As little as I, I could not part from the danger that lies on me
I always dreamed of being a butterfly; being free.
I lived through the pain and the passion of love
My heart thumped in fear and happiness
Still wishing to fly away like a dove
still living in a tortured and the sadness of loneliness.
My only escape is by music and staying in my room
When ever I am singing or sweeping the floor with a broom
The past still haunts; talking it in the poem might kill me
But please do not judge me please.
I do not wanna talk about it no more; I have suffered to long
if I could I can write a poem or make a song
it does not change how I feel; I am who I am now; nothings changing
as my past days passing.
I might not be a dove or butterfly, but I am I
My hair, skin, and eye
Nothing is ever going to change in the past now, but today it might; tommorow definitely.