The slice of your wrist.
Fingers curl into a fist.
The fist in your face.
Bloody nose your heart starts to race.
Gun pointed at you.
Turn your back, shots in back, you counted two.
Blood pours out, gasping for a breath, your life is at an end.
There is no one to help you, no one here you can call a friend.
There's so much blood, you think as you fade.
Your sense of revenge got you into this, look what happend, with your life you paid.
In the end revenge might cost you your life.
So just remember you die you cause your loved ones strife.
Give me your worse criticism, dont worry i can take it.
Comments
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wow
i like it. of course i'm in to gruesome poetry so i'm not much of a critic of this one. but i did get lost in the poem. is the person committing suicide or is someone killing them?
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OMG! I love it! it was kinda like you knew me when you wrote that and my story and some of the stuff thats went on cause of me.
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