I'm innocent.
But fate is when you don't even know the name of the person who is screwing you over.
Too many messed up quotations,
The finally moments of the ones who were dying.
I'll never forget the ones who didn't stop crying.
In the middle?
Don't forget to walk between the droplets of rain.
God's tears,
Grief,
Overwhelming until it all ends.
But sometimes it doesn't.
The knife isn't dull enough.
The trigger not as easy to pull as you thought.
I mean, it's just a life, but what about everyone else?
Don't be selfish.
It's not that hard to end it all in one second.
Anyone could do it.
But all those who love you will be torn apart.
Grief is like that knife,
All rusty and dull.
But you're innocent, no one ever accused you.
YOU ARE READING
Last Night
PoetryDark poem collection from the span of a few years, slowly editing the early ones. The later ones are pretty good. Don't be afraid to give feedback. Please read, vote, and comment!
