Summary: Agent Bishop did something no one else had been able to; he broke one of the turtles.
Disclaimer: I do not own the turtles, simple as that.
A/n: I was bored and listening to sad music. Thought I'd give poetry a go. I remember doing some in year seven. I never was very good at it.
Lost in crimson dreams,
Mind torn at the seams
Blood dripping like crimson rain,
Trying to remember, but in vain
Shadows come creeping,
Your voice, whispering, hold on,
Familiar, but different
And never the same,
It's all just a sick game
I used to fight you,
I used to hate you
But now I am nothing but numb
Now I am alone, lost
A/n: Didn't really have a turtle in mind when I wrote this, so you can pretend it's whoever you want.