EVERYTHING is hopeless,
For him it all ends the same.
No matter the outcome,
They pass him the blame.
In anger did he cry,
Lying over body in red.
Scarlett, drunk it like wine,
The cold corpse lay there dead.
In his heart did he scream,
The pain tore him to shreds.
Killed the woman, he did—
Over a word she had said.
But it murdered him first,
Blood warm turned cold.
Eyes aflame and burning,
Yet soul lifeless and sold.
Knife pierce chest,
Truth touch breast.
East meet west,
Life is the test.
Death for him,
Always old friend.
Bring death people,
People draw to him.
Like a mystery,
They make a documentary.
Flash! Flash!
Cameras capture his face,
Crazed is his smile—
Heart starts to race.
They know! They know!
They'd finally see,
'Ma would be proud of what he'd come to be.
A star— maybe she'd notice him,
Smile at his interview.
Dreamt of the healing,
All that her love would do.
And then he screamed,
The pain tore him to shreds.
As he sat in his chair,
The glory all in his head.
— 𝑀.
YOU ARE READING
1.1 | omniscient
Poetry→ thoughts which hurt to keep. [#113] in COLLECTION [#123] in DEEPTHOUGHTS
