Firing off one shot
Burning hair no scared tears
In the mirror I stand
Too free every one
Kill the evil one
Hiding where the Sun won't shine
Protecting others but not himself
Broken glass
All over the house
Chained to a chair
Case ran cold
Cop's don't know what to call it
Bullet not found
Two holes
The entrance
The exit
Letters I left for the
Undertaker
Recyclable content
Erupted like a volcano
Stopped taking medicine
No force entry
Only my footprints
Only my fingerprints
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Author:
Anthony Hanible (
Offline) - Published: April 9th, 2025 06:36
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 30
- Users favorite of this poem: Anthony Hanible, xqw
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Comments1
Apparent suicide a crime that used to carry the death penalty. A dark write but in metaphoric terms most all of us have committed it many times. A great tale withe metaphoric implications.
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