Thinking to myself, I am lost,
the lines of sanity, have distant been crossed.
Closing my eyes, the gates are shutting,
through the bars, the flesh im cutting.
Through the fence, my life pours out,
the end has come, without a doubt.
Live for ever, the American dream,
we’ll only be known, for our last scream.
But when life’s run out, what’s to live,
death to taunt, temptation to give.
Not a week, which has past,
the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, of that being my last.
Painting a picture, with sun bleached colors,
the rivers run red, at the hands of our mothers.
Finally tonight, the thoughts will stop,
consciousness will fade, my soul will drop.
A contest entry
- depressed by serenity silvermoon.
450 points, ended April 4, 2007, 39 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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this was good
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