A couple of bangs, then a crash
he picks up his head and saw
the fog plumming through
the gunshot holes,
in the train windows,
like smoke from a cigar.
He looks out the window,
and saw me there.
Reloading my guns
but all he did was stare.
I picked up my guns
and cocked them back.
I aimed right for him
but he did not move.
I put my fingers on the triggers
and gave one a pull.
It felt like slow motion,
as it passed through his skull,
In through his face,
and out through the back.
I knew it was over
when I looked at his head
and smoke seeped from the hole,
like smoke from a cigar.
Author notes
Written July 14th, 2004
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Comments
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i love you kiddo! your imagery is amasing! you really have that down to perfection. i love ti! this was a great write. its so universal too. i can put myself into the poem and want to shoot a person or a thing or whatever! i like this a lot! you first "long/medium" length poem! haha. i like ti a lot! keep up the great writes!
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hmmm...hoping this isnt a true story...lol...but yah this was an interesting rite...i liked the whole smoke from a cigar thing that was cool..like how u used it at the beginning and the end..that was nice...great job...<3
~Holly~
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