(no subject)
Rising, rising, rising.
You’re rising today again,
to look down on me.
To put the dirty and filthy on show.
Dragging the foul thoughts out,
for everyone to see the ugly secrets within.
You deepen the shadows,
turns them into oil covering everything,
makes the bad even worse in others’ eyes.
If it was your sister,
then maybe I could hide it all,
but oh no.
Dripping with disgust,
from your high place you look down on the Earth.
You love it,
don’t you?
Tearing veils apart with a grin,
you sadistic fire ball up there,
clearing up the fog which I made to fool.
Please leave.
Burn out so that your light die,
so I can hide again.
Don’t want to be dirty and filthy in their eyes.
Don’t want them to see the ugly secrets.
Don't want to be out on show for everyone to see.
Set, set, set.
Let your forgiving sister rise instead,
so that my aching scars can't be seen by anyone.
I don't need the pity,
nor the disgust.
An awesome person helped me revise this poem, is it an improvement?