Whistling-a-little-sing-song

Haunted by all four corners,  
each one heaven-aglow
with unenlightenment.  
I hang onto the crooning lullabies  
that tug at my burgeoning nausea:  
just let it all out.  
 
Whistling-a-little-sing-song,  
with the birds outside;  
each one carries a familiar smile;  
each one plagiarizes a lingering laugh.  
The enthusiastically decorated walls  
are heirlooms from a generation after,  
highlighted stomach-clenching  
with the flair of crayon-art.  
 
Monochrome patterns the hours awake,  
the hours asleep, and the hours in-between.  
Whilst gravestones weep baby pink harmonies,  
sobbing traumatic child-hood rhymes.  
A doll-sized hat is gently cradled in one arm,  
rock-a-bye-baby: "I'll keep you safe".  
Not quite the same, but it'll have to do.  
 
The sun rises with it’s cheery grin again,  
so I grab my rifle and pump lead into that  
sun-shine joy until slack-line jaws  
bleed the world black.  
"I'll keep you safe".  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
This is for the 'Sad, Depressing, ect.' contest.  
I was trying to aim for sad here,  
I'm not sure if I hit psycho instead.  
:/