Poem 45: The Survivor?

38 9 24
                                    

Run little Mike

Get rid of those spikes.

Run lazy Willow

dash those poisonous arrows.

From a simple road trip

into an endless rip.

Guns were pointed

blood was annointed.

From six into three

where the others were free?

John and Mitch were slayed

cut their fingers and heads.

I made my way home

My life that I didn't own.

At last we arrived safely

I mean, at last I arrived safely.

📎📎📎

silvernia this is the other one. I hope you like it 😊

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