I had a life .
I had a dream.
I also have a gun in mouth but do not scream
Now all that is left of me is on the floor or in the chair
Now my family and friends stand here and cry and I realize I shouldn't be here about to die cause I had a life and I had a dream and now all I have is six feet deep
YOU ARE READING
Salad Days
PoetrySad poems from sad and angry times. Written from a juvenile time (14 years old) to older. That's what you get when you leave a teen to ponder reality. A pen hits reality harder than high school survival. Original Art from Vivianne Rheaume
