it's not your fault, boy
you didn't do a thing, but
that makes it all worse
she's gone, left to rot
someone came in and killed her
i was gone, what luck
my feathers rustle
in the cold night, shaking and
shivering, let me sleep please
who are you? i ask
to the man who finds me on
the side of the road
he sneers at me, then
kicks me in the chest hard, ouch
skulks off while i cringe
who will be here, huh?
the walls are tall, grand, white
these black feathers fall
into despair, oh
hell is a wonderful place
to go, lo behold
YOU ARE READING
this fantastical world is too surreal (poetry #5)
Poetry"a rustle crackles underneath jackboots crossbow tight in hand she breathes one final breath before he pulls the trigger" you know the drill
