We run along the garden
Roses red as blood
Leaves green as emeralds
And there she stands
An enchanting creature
With wings so grand
Skin pale as snow
Beauty obvious to show
She is the reason
The garden is a haven
And everyone is a slaven
But a being so sacred and pure
Is hunted for
One day in the garden
The peace was tampered with
My angel shined brighter
than the sun
Until in came a man with a pointed
Gun
She falls to ground
And it came with a cost
All beauty in the garden was lost
YOU ARE READING
The Bullshit Journal ~ by a.j.c
PoesíaJust another idiotic poem book That will never be anything more And you probably won't read any of this. But if you do. You must have felt pain like this to understand any of it. If not, and you still understand. You're just lying to yourself.
