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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1098138-Gothic-Wasteland
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Young Adult · #1098138
umm the poem just flowed...what more can i say
In broken homes, Broken souls linger
Hiding in the shadows isolated from reality
They listen to the voices inside their mind
That they think they hear
Are they losing their mind?
Or is it all just in their head?

Bloody razor blades litter the floor
Suicidal attempts have become daily routine
They have finally lost their grip on their sanity
Their minds illusions are their only friend
...the only ones that truely understand
Their memories seem to fuel their fire
To them their seems to be no end

At 3 in the morning they retreat outside
For a glimpse of of the bleak world they left behind
The world that they fear, the world that they hide from
But now it seems that the world fears them
They live for the night...
Live for the thrills of their vampire lifestyles

How do I know this?
I've seen it...I've lived it

They meet up with each other during the night
They walk to a deserted house, in the middle of nowhere
Broken glass hides in the grass,
from the broken windows they came from
Kids staring around lifelessly, smoking staring at the moon
God only knows what their thinking about

Inside beer bottles and pools of dried blood
Scatter amoung the floors
The smell of death itself lingers through the crumbling hallways
Morbid drawings and pleds for help are scribbled all along stained walls
Loud satanic music pumps through the speakers
While creatures in the corner shoot up
As they walk by, they see the drug start to take effect
Only adding to the creatures already non-human looking bodies

They pass through hallways
Past rooms that have no doors
Only to see acts of a lustful manner take place
To hear the cries of painful passion
They get to an empty room at the end of a broken hallway
The needles come out,
As the want, the need, the addiction comes screaming back in their minds
No time to think, the needle is injected
The poison comes flowing in
Their eyes roll back,
As darkness is pushed through their veins again

How do I know this?
I've seen it...I've been there...I've lived it

This is their gothic wasteland
this, this is my gothic wasteland






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