Pitter patter the rain goes.
Pitter patter, pitter patter.
AH!
I snap my head at the sudden scream.
An old man rocks in a rocking chair while sewing.
AH! AH!
He keeps jabbing himself with the needle over and over again.
AH!
Eventually, you can see his blood run and run.
A never ending waterfall of blood escapes his fingers and stains the floor.
He falls out of his chair and onto the floor twitching over and over.
AH!
He yelps one last time and I see his
body and the blood fade away.
Pitter patter the rain goes.
I wonder who will be the next ghost.
YOU ARE READING
A Poem for the Judged
Poetrya collection of poems about the feelings of people in our society who are judged.
