One, two, three, four,
Pulling the trigger,
Now you are no more.
Five, six, seven, eight,
Trust me,
I'm not shooting out of hate.
Nine, ten, eleven, twelve,
Your luck decides your fate,
Will the gun shoot, or will you have to wait?
Fear, courage, destiny, life,
We all know it's pointless to
Bring a knife,
To a gun fight.
(Original)
_dont_steal_my_food_
YOU ARE READING
Original Poems
PoetryPoems I write in my notebook. They aren't brilliant but they're not bad either, hope you like them. Sneak peek: "Blood dripping from a Rose, Is like seeing an angel cry, It's unholy, never to be seen, It's heart has bled dry." All original, no copy...
