The Poem To the Ending
Father with the gun in your hand
you should have heard my cry
in a distant wind planned killing
in the summer fever a blood filled
room a slain corpse harvest the
angel of death around your head
in an underground grave falling to
the pigs bombing atomic gases
burning the eyes of my soul destroying
my life with two metallic shells
this is my poem to the ending
Copyright © Richard Tarr | Year Posted 2011
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