gathered my friend
in my arms
he was bleeding in
places that the devil
would have to heal
god wouldn't waste his
time on him - his heart
so black he was long
ago a hell reject
no shedding tears
it wasn't the man thing
to do - he was
born in this ghetto – raised by
this rat infested place, his life
was here where he would
die tonight
not alone - with his gang
all around him watching
him draw his last breath
and me - being the mature
age of twelve with hope
of being just like him
we’d get our revenge
Author notes
'Color me Shutter-Tone Deaf'
Option 6
A contest entry
- the list of evils by hks.
400 points, ended February 28, 12 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Muse of an Ember Sketch by PaintedParisPassion.
700 points, ended February 17, 48 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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those bastards.
yeah.. thats pretty much a superoversimplified version of how it can work.
i guess.
its sad. :\
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Very powerful. Great imagery, and descritives. Very heartfelt.
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Wow this is beautifully written! Well done!
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Hero worship can be a dangerous thing, when it see's only the bravado and not the blood...too many go this path and end up being a name on a slice of marble that no one remembers if they were brave or just stupid.
C
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Wow! That is a sad write. Captured the gang life well though!
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