Death to dope fiends Death to sex queens Let's kill to one That was never seen It doesn't matter what I say Only how much you pay To hear the confessions Of a child gone astray You fell into a cold cold trap Thunder high above cracks Some words, when spoken Can't be taken back Another dark, rainy night You'll never put up the fight They so desperately need You'll never make it right Tear-stained faces painted blue Shadows rage after you A heart of gold Lies black and blue and torn in two Glazed eyes, broken cries Much too young to realize Just how far you've gone The darkness, the terrible lies The money you've made Tonight's kill will never fade From anyone's soul You'll never be okay
Reason for writing:
we could have died
Birth sign: Gemini
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Trisha Hanudel.