i wrote this in 1998. its something i figured i would share. comment [;plzz.
Another Day.
I sit here now wondering how my death will affect the world of tomorrow, or better yet the world of yesterday.
I wanted to write a poem of Hatred, but i had no paper. I wanted to write a poem of Forgiveness, but i had no pen. But now, now with my skin as my paper and this knife as my pen, i write to the world of my hate.
As the hammer clicks back in this .45, i begin to feel free, as the hammar slides forth, my solution rushes to meet me. As it enters my skull, i hear the bone crack.
The rope around my neck, starts to pull back. The pain is too much to bear, soon all i can see is black.
My eyes ease open, to the light of the sun. And now that its done, i get up, to live one more day.
Moonlight_Kills · Thu Aug 27, 2009 @ 05:27am · 2 Comments |