Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2014
Blood drips slowly to the floor,
Staining it a bright, sickly red.
You couldn't quite make it to the door,
You gave me the perfect chance, so now you're dead.

You were a murderer too in your own twisted way.
He had it coming
Danielle Barlow
Written by
Danielle Barlow
283
   Francisco DH, Love and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems