Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2021
As the rose-colored spatter
ran across the wall
This genius in budding
felt no remorse at all
Possessed by a craving
for a special shade of red
to complete the special masterpiece
that had always been in his head
He dipped his brush into some blood
that had spilled upon the floor
His masterpiece might have to wait
The police are at the door
Tom D
Written by
Tom D  M
(M)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems