This Game Of Terror Poem by Scott Creed

For Jen.

After we play thIs game of terror
can we please take a break?
i'm growIng sIck of every error,
all my falters and mIstakes.
LIke the undead, i walk the earth,
not knowIng i'll never know lIfe.
i get much more than i'm worth,
which Is no more than a knIfe.
the skeleton In my closet
dances to the sound of funeral bells.
O my nIghtmares! i thInk i've lost It!
YOU laugh whIle i'm engulfed by the flames of hell.