Roses are red
like the blood
splatters on your enemy's bed,
a note left for their family
written with red ink,
the blood fills up
into a pool leaving
you to sink
at deaths brink.
Violets are blue
so are the bruises
covering you,
broken and bruised
like the hearts of
your family
who have just got
home finding you
lying on the floor
with your hand reaching
out to the door.
The sheets on your bed torn,
your face half burned,
they look at you once more
before they shut your coffin,
they bury you into the ground,
everybody's in sound of prayer,
when they open their eyes
they find a red rose lying there,
no one knows who put it there,
all they know is
it's from a natural born killer.
Author notes
I was going make it a love poem at first, but i thought it sounded to cheesy.
I'm not very good at happy poems,lol.
This poem is about a murder as you can see, I hope you like it.
A contest entry
- Roses are red.... by Antebellum.
400 points, ended August 28, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
excellent take on this.
wonderful job.
thanks for entering.
-
i think its awesome!!!! slightly chilling and un-nerving but awesome none the less!
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