thats it,
im done.
time to run,
grab my gun.
im out the door,
hit the floor,
as i soar,
through the space,
between your face,
i feel misplaced,
misunderstood,
im not good,
i know i should,
but im a liar,
shots are fired,
emergency dire.
shes only 17,
treated like a queen,
tearing at the seams.
hurting herself,
cause others hurt her,
its all just a blur.
now shes here,
trembling with fear,
gun shaking,
heart quaking,
death calling,
finger stalling,
over the trigger,
thoughts vigor,
a war inside,
lower your pride,
admit that youve lost,
but at what cost?
your life.
surprise!
youve died.
YOU ARE READING
stay tuned.
Poetryim depressed and need a place to vent my thoughts. enjoy the journey in my mind. i hope you stay tuned for what's inside.
