​Winter Child

By God Is In The Rain

Winter Child

Bought flower for my scent of night.
She's my princes, my beam of light!
Angel that fell, she's such delight.
So very young, even more polite!
With small bow, head turns to side.
Holding the gift, eyes opened wide!
Cheeks like lips, she's turning red.
"I just wish that you were dead!"

Screams and shouts, she's making scene!
My ball of hate, my little teen! ^^

Calming down all I hold dear!
Bringing back the peaceful atmosphere.
Tell me princess, my delight!
What could turn your black to white?
But pain is all that has to say!
Into my eyes her pepper spray!
I can't see now, she's soo toxine!
my ball of hate, my little teen!

She's in war with all things normal.
And in love with all things wild.... ^^

What could make my Fury stop?
Perhaps she wants lollipop?
My little girl is munching down.
Tuns into smile what once was frown!
She's my morphine, my death vaccine!
Reading a porn magazine!
Gives me stare and gives me wink.
For all the things that I could think.

Legs spread wide, skirt just between.
my ball of love my little teen!

Lost in time of racing clock.
Her lungs are like cold cobalt rock.
She's lost in sea of bile and hate!
For her date she can not be late!
Changes her skirt and sharpens knife.
So pretty it could take your life!
Sex, Devil, Barbie, attention fiend.
my ball of hate, Delicate teen! ^^

her soul's like midnight hours.
She's on edge and always riled.... ^^

Early plea rolls off my tongue
But she hates sun and night is young!
Checks her phone and then her gun.
Both she's wearing just for fun.
Leaves the house and gives goodbye.
Back in ten? well, such silly lie.
She walks with style, boots made from lead.
While the sky is falling on her head.

High on stress, high on caffeine!
My ball of hate, my little teen!

Under clouds, yet walks with smile.
Watching cracks, never steps on tile!
My thorns with rose, but beware boys.
To catch her view, to raise her voice!
She's sound of rain, so sweet and nice.
Like the death demanding sacrifice!
With crimson lips my metal queen.
My ball of hate, my little teen!

She's not clear target of summer.
But rather a winter child.... ^^

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2017 God Is In The Rain
Published on Thursday, September 7, 2017.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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