27
Salt in an open wound
Voices spitting wretched things
I induced his pain
And triggered mine
The voices, they haunt us
Nowhere to run
Dark
Shadowed corner
Rape
Murder
Then it repeats
The images fill my mind
And won't get out
Etched, burned in my head
Cursed to hear and see
What evil lay, hybernating
Cursed to see the day
When the bear awakes
And the blade...
Makes the final cut
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
