Its the hardest part of numb thoughts,
I know you are not coming back.
You always tried to appear to be strong,
the most stealthy of warriors.
Brother, you are still a child,
I don't expect you to come back.
You stick out like a pretty sore thumb.
Those dogs will smell you before you leave,
even make it out, of that cursed headstone of a door.
The horror we are all in, can't compare,
to daggers flying in your head at night.
I scream! I woe! I bleed the unseen!
So much for the disenchanted dreams.
All the bridges have burned to the ground.
Gasoline on that last step ahead.
Run as fast as you can boy!
There are things that keep you from home.
Author notes
I don't care where he ends up, as long as he's safe.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Outstanding!
I can't really think of anything, great job girlie. Miss ya. -
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Thanks. lol. Have you seen Sweeney Todd yet?
The trouble with poet is how do you know it's deceased, try the priest.
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