Writings of a Teen

Bewildered

I've been shot.

Over and over and over again,

after bullet after bullet after bullet.

Blood spills down onto the cement floor,

a sea of red, flowing in my gullet.

I clutch at my chest, trying hard to soothe,

my poor heart that is covered in holes.

Blood enters my mouth and soon I am drowning,

My life slips away with no controls.

I watch as my world fades before me,

but people don't really seem to notice.

They continue to torment and snicker at me,

Ha! But they've already lost their case.

I pity these heartless creatures,

They seem to be very distressed.

I breathe deeply and decide to ignore,

the large gaping hole in my chest.

I am living a life with no purpose,

I mean what's the point?

We're all gonna die some day or another,

It's kinda sad to be honest.

We're all stuck here on this filthy planet,

until God decides to take us away,

decides to take us somewhere far,

decides to take us to a "better place".

If there is even "a better place",

Is this place better by a bit?

Are we supposed to like this place?

Or...

...are we supposed to fear it?