Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2014
Two shots down,
gunman,
*****,

Broke down,
side of the road
side of the bed,

Follow me,
fall asleep,
I went through the wrong doors,
I fell down the stairs.

You're a ******* thunder storm.

Walked three paces to the west,
turned around
you shot me in the back.

Five rounds of blanks,
and I took
the one shell shock,
of a hollow point.

Where there was once,
strawberry fields
with sun and bare feet.
We've left nothing
but cold blood on ice.
Portland Grace
Written by
Portland Grace  23/F
(23/F)   
442
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems