Take Me Home (Original Poems)

One Shot Per Person - Poem 122

Give me what you need,

Take what I have.

I used to have pieces that I could replenish after some time,

You wouldn’t come to me asking as constantly.

Now I have even used up my back up.

My pieces are disappearing and dissolving.

Slow down.

Slow down, even though my mouth won't stop your gun.

Please, one shot per person.

I will sit nice,

Listen to your loud shots ring out.

I will say nothing.

Take my time.

Every minute.

Don’t let me go home…

For my home just closes me in.

I will do my best to mend you.

I will be there.

I am a call,

A text, away.

But,

One shot per person, pease.