death

14 3 0
                                    

Tick Tack Tick Tack
Her countdown started
Her days are counted
Her breaths are shortened
And she no more sleeps

Because everytime it's the same thing
The same scenario, the same ending
Just different kind of ways but all with the same aim
Her death was their goal
And even if it's something old
It's like she owns a piece of gold

PoemsWhere stories live. Discover now