The rope tightens around his neck
Bringing bittersweet relief
His grave dug daily is now fifty feet deep
Breath taken by a fiberous theif
Skin tight against withered bone she looks around old and alone
Raises a gun to her mouth she bits her last bullet,collapses to the stone
An ocean of red runs freely from his vein
A scarlet canvas reveals
The only rush of relief he's ever felt for his pain
Rooftop towers make city lights shimmer and shake
He stands on the edge muttering
"For fucks sake"
Some pills they pop hoping for a final heart stop
In convulsive agony they shudder and drop
Bittersweet relief to have it all stop
YOU ARE READING
Poetry;my depravity. A manic insanity
PoetryA collection of stuff I've written...maybe not so happy stuff
