Their See-Through Feelings

I have heard people say, “I do not care.” A thousand times or more.
I hear from their voices and see through their eyes that they do care.
In fact, they care more than anything.
But they do not speak up.

They do not talk because they fear me.
Fear the blood on my hands every time I return.
Fear the power laced between my words when I talk.
They fear the scythe I hold in my hands and its sheath that was never washed.

They fear my oily black hair and my beautiful face, now a ghastly color of white.
I feel their shivering when I come close but what did I expect?
I am the devil, after all.
I am Satan and I enjoy it all.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem