Post by jonnymc on Oct 15, 2011 17:25:46 GMT -5
In her eyes, i saw her pain,
And on her wrist, the open vein,
The wicked knife that made the cut,
Not cast aside, but gently put,
Against the yet unsullied skin,
Poised to cleave, repeat the sin,
Then once two bloody furrows lay,
And tightened lips began to pray,
On her bed she went to cry,
Then close her eyes, and say goodbye,
I took her in my cold embrace,
Far from the world she could not face,
Contented joy then filled her mind,
Her broken body, left behind.
Any Constructive criticism will be GREATLY appreciated, thanks for reading
And on her wrist, the open vein,
The wicked knife that made the cut,
Not cast aside, but gently put,
Against the yet unsullied skin,
Poised to cleave, repeat the sin,
Then once two bloody furrows lay,
And tightened lips began to pray,
On her bed she went to cry,
Then close her eyes, and say goodbye,
I took her in my cold embrace,
Far from the world she could not face,
Contented joy then filled her mind,
Her broken body, left behind.
Any Constructive criticism will be GREATLY appreciated, thanks for reading
