Get Your Premium Membership

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

Copyright © | Year Posted 2010




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs