Grasp slipping,
Heart ripping,
Scale tipping,
Values stripping.
She can't hold on much longer.
Brain hopping,
Blood stopping,
Tears dropping,
Hopes flopping.
Nothing stops the pain.
No one stops to love her.
Kids rushing,
Words gushing,
Meanings slushing,
Reality mushing.
They run over her feelings.
They don't look back.
They don't realize.
Lights flashing,
Thunder crashing,
Rain dashing,
People slashing.
That's it...
One,
Get the knife, hide it from the sun.
Two,
Give people a taste of their own words. Boo!
Three,
Clean up! Let their pieces feed that tree.
C'mon! C'mon! It's as easy as one, two, three!
YOU ARE READING
If
PoetryIt's a poetry book. For poetry. Edgar Allen Poe-etry. (These poems have nothing to do with Edgar Allen Poe. I saw the pun and I made it.)
