Your sweaty palm wraps around me
The sound I make brings you pleasure
You treasure me use me for evil
It's like the devil takes over you
You drove her to a dark alley
She didn't know this would be her finale breath
You were using me for her death
I'm refusing to let you pull my trigger
Your shaking finger starts to pull
You had a pocketful of bullets
Why does this poor girl have to go
Doing this act makes me want to hurl all I can do is shoot
Her body falls to the ground
The sound of the sirens startled you
You were surrounded you threw me in the dirt
It hurt me to do that to know I caused that
If you just paused and looked in her scared eyes
You might have just spared her life
You glared at me as you walked away
You have nothing to say for what you have done
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Author:
Gabriella (
Offline) - Published: June 15th, 2018 06:45
- Comment from author about the poem: A poem of a murder scene from the weapons point of view! I wanted to give a different perspective on things. people always talk about the killer. here's a short story about the weapon. Enjoy!!!
- Category: Short story
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments1
Clever write and point of view.
Thank you so much
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