Shots, cries.

2 1 0
                                    

Break my legs,
Make me suffer,
Take a shotgun, my bags,
Like the crier I am.

From my backpack,
Aim for my head,
And shoot behind my back,
Make me feel mad.

Destroy me inside,
More than I already am,
Bury me between cracks, between both sides,
Like the shady I can't be.

Stick your sword in me,
Weaken me, I don't want to live,
Nick me after I'm done with standard,
In my waves I will not save you.

Music for my ears,
Bears and their roars,
From the moon to Mars,
Forget all the wars,

But they will still stand....

The Poem Book That Shouldn't Be Seen [P1: If It Goes Up, Must Come Down]Where stories live. Discover now