Sweet Dreams

Sweet Dreams
I’m made of these
They come
And they go
They’re pure evil
That they touture your brain
I’m laughing at you
As you fall on your knees
Your eyes pleading for help
Yet I love to see your pain

Sweet Dreams
I’m made of these
I’m getting angrier
As your pain eases
But I have another plan
It will come out
And kill you

Sweet Dreams
I’m made of these
You’re finally dead
Cause of me
Your funeral sucked
Your family cried
While I smiled in delight
No one seemed to know why
Sweet Dreams
I’m made of these

This poem was written/submitted by Erin Massiello.