Scissor Hands
 

This is me and my madness you must taste
I didn't meen to cut her face when i reached to caress her face.
my apprehentions source, filled with poison lace
Gleaming moonlight bloodstained blades
Always getting in the way i guess its what one trades
For scissor hands, take, love, cut, alone once more
pioson flower only its not beutifull like before
Why do they stop to smell this death of my lands
I'll just cut you when I reach for a hug with my hands
All I want is to touch you so beutifull in my site
But you have ran at the feel of the cut of my touch
I cry to release some hell thats built up inside
I'll rip he who did this to me, thats put me to shame
But deep inside I know it's GOD that made the boy of scissor hands to blame
I can't touch you anymore, touch a star, watch it fade
every thing i love lost at the edge of a razor blade

Like the vocabulary here and the concept, it seemed too short for me though,i was expecting more to this as i read through it, but your imaginative words are strong in this poem,keep droppping..1