AN: This is not meant to sound ‘emo’; I prefer to look at it as a glimpse in the mind of an insane person

MORBIDITY, A POEM

BY Kayla ar Baxter

There’s something truly wrong with me

But do not judge on what you see

For that your eyes play tricks on you

(Surely you must know they do!)

And beneath my ghoulish skin

Is a monster deep within

Waiting for liberty – to be let out

To feast on rueful victims, no doubt

For now, I’ll use my morbid brain

To hand out murders and give out pain

And that is the closest I’ll get

To the real thing I never met

But once I do, there’ll be no end

Unless ‘tis your life, my reader, my friend

But I’ll end the lives of those who do wrong

Even if it takes oh! so long

But my mind is not always on grisly crimes

I like to paint – or write – to past some of the time

And while others read stories by Munch or Defoe

I read the works of Edgar Allan Poe

And the only way I’ll ever stay sane

Is to take pleasure derived from pain

And that’ll event’lly be the death of me

So I bid you farewell; fini!