The Cool Painted Wall
The Cool Painted Wall
Death and destruction
always present, always here.
young...Old
no one
NO,
No one can escape the reapers sickle.
The blood and the bruises
of stabbings and shootings.
No answers, no cures
for the home front combat.
They'll claim your life tonight
in dreams being chased lost and alone.
Wake in sweat.
Collapse against the cool painted wall.
It felt so real...
Fan blades cut the air
creating a cool breeze.
It makes you shiver
calm down,
catch your breath.
Stare at the ceiling.
Circling shadows will keep you company
while you fall asleep in the dark.
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.
