The destroyed me...

Perfect target

When you are angry,pick up the nails and put them here..

This is a dead object..

Someone said..

He nodded his head..

The body infront of him stayed silent..

It was dead..

He smiled..

With his friends..

He watched beautiful things.

When angry he came to that chamber..

Where the body laid..

Silent,motionless..

Picking up a nail he hammered it..

Watching as the anger decrease a little,he felt better..

Then he walked away..

But next time one nail was not enough..

So he picked two..

Then three..

Still it was as before..

Taking a knife he carved flowers,his name,whatever he wished..

And it became his perfect canvas..

Never questioning,if it was dead,then how did it heal..

Never looking back,as drops of tear trickled by..

The perfect target laid there..

As nails painted it's skin..