My Poetry site

These poems are non-death realted, but still kinda depressing

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My Poem on Death
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Some more, not as death realted

hee hee

She heard footsteps

Echoing behind her

She saw shadows

In the moonlight

She felt cold

As in her worst nightmares

She tasted blood

For she had chewed her bottom lip

She smelt fear

Her own…

this one I am still working on...
 

They carried guns and rode in tanks

Across my beautiful country

They planted mines

And killed my family

Who was I to like them?

 

I now look at the world from a whole new perspective

Through razor wire and electric fences

To be held a hostage,

To be kept at gun-point,

for the rest of my life.

 

My life,

sucks

My hope

Shattered shards of glass

 

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