Blood like fire, quick to spread.
drag me deeper under head...

Big bug,
Small bug...

There is a boy who swings in the park,
Every single day...

There she is her velvet skin
eyes like that of a precious gem...

The pitchers that i see,
There on the wall for you...

This is my first not rhyming poem so bear with me.
Look me in the eyes, and tell me what you see...

In the trees they swing and sway,
nightmare creatures misbehave...

Stupid cricket,
Please just leave...

The ring of the clock,
The move of the hand...

People try to control her,
They make her play along...

You see him there, there he stands.
Eyes like spiders wondering strands...

Sometimes you think your falling,
To where the departed go...