"Cold and frozen with fear she shakes,
How did it all come to this?
Staring in the mirror with puffy eyes and dried tears,
Why did it all come to this?
Finger on the trigger but her thoughts release the penetrating bullet,
Is it my fault?
Stories written on wrists and pillows filled with cries.
She must do it now to rid the demons that infiltrate her mind,
The poor girl placed the gun beside her head, then she was dead.
Her funeral was silent..."
YOU ARE READING
Late Night Thoughts
PoetryA collection of poetry and creative writing I create. It's a hobby of mine I love. Just thought to share it.
