Annobethal

slipping slowly through the cracks do I dare even look back? behind me lay the happiness and pleasure I forsake but only in attempt to leave the lingering pain in my wake to bypass the torture put upon me by those oh so friendly faces in those welly known places where behind their smile on their cherub faces they plot my demise you say they don't, They Don't but they do I can see it, I see it in their eyes the glint and glimmer at the thought of the satisfaction the joy at my damnation, my hefty burden of insanity I hear their raspy whispers, or have they gotten me already? am I dead yet? Am I Dead Yet? they pretend they do not see, they do