The bullet hits through the glass, Shattering, falling to the floor, The blood hits through a body, Entering, wounding the soul, The blood drips slowly, Lingering, Hanging onto the skin for What seems like an eternity, Dripping to the floor, Forming a puddle.
Reason for writing:
A friend of mine has just lost her uncle because of a murderer on the loose. He didn't know the man, and for no reason, this life had been taken away.
Birth sign: Not entered
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