My dear little window;
So beautiful and round.
It gazed out on the city;
And rain that kissed the ground.
Seeing both the night and day;
The shadows and the sun.
It has seen so many things;
Like when he shot the gun.
The bullet shattered the glass;
The pieces kiss the bloody ground.
The city was filled with sirens;
The shooter was never found.
My dear little window,
So broken and round.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Mentally Insane
PoetryPoetry is the writing of our deepest, darkest, most inner thoughts. When speaking isn't enough and your voice falls upon deaf ears, writing is our only refuge. Join me and experience the workings of my mind in my collection of original poems. (Credi...
