My scythe ,
sharp and pointy,
made for killing
or maybe to defend.
But no matter what there will always
be blood shed for every weapon,
But not a gun since it uses bullets.
But with this scythe I carry
I will be safe,
I But this scythe is big and heavy to carry,
So I carry it when I need it,
So i carry a small knife to defend myself.
But now I have to go and write more poems on paper,
And listen to music while I'm doing ti to,
I'll have my scythe in the closet and the knife in my pocket and my little
razor blade to throw just incase.
So talk to you all later tomorrow,
So good night and sweet dreams
And let the heavens be with you,
And protect you from your fears.
And next time there will be a poem
about my pain and maybe my love to someone else,
So see you all later.
( I know some parts are off topic all of it is a poem except this part)