Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2015
Holding the gun to my head,
I swear I'll press the trigger,
One more minute and I'll be dead,
My body left to rot and wither.
Eyes wet with tears of sorrow,
I've always been a giver.
So will you take the gun from my head?
Or will you **** me quicker?
Rhiannon
Written by
Rhiannon  United Kingdom
(United Kingdom)   
441
   Cecil Miller
Please log in to view and add comments on poems