Murdered By Clothes
So stuck
Going mad
I’m dying
In a mess
And I can’t get out
This murderer was smart
And smarter than I
To tie me up in clothes
And sit back and watch me die
It’s mid-summer
And I’m sweating to death
I fight till fighting is weaken me
And I lay there, can’t breathe,
The clothes is wet from sweat
But that is all the water I have
Which is sad?
But I keep laying there till I die,
What and I
The one to die
Tied up in rags?
Come on now why.
Copyright © Amy Hollar | Year Posted 2013
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