When I feel the blood coursing through me, and my world is going down
When the streets are empty
And nobody's in town
I will be the survivor
In this crumbling place
Because when I'm the last hope
It will be danger I will face
I will live on
For the ones who are gone
And when the voice inside me says I can't do it
I will prove it wrong
The match burning inside me
Will create the forest of flames
And I may not want it
But I will have a place in the hall of fame
Children will read my name in a textbook
And when it's read it may never get a second look
I may even sound lame
But it was my arrow
That started these games
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryPoetry is a way to express ourselves, whether what we write is fictional or not. [Completed] (Some of these are pretty.... hng..... Read the last ones they're better.)
