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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Thursday, 25 April 2013

Dead shot!

I can't lie,
the heat down here is dreadful!
And I can't  get another shot to live.

I remember;
my mother always told me I was such a kicker.
I only wish I saw the signs of that picture.
I neglected it and carried on serving hate like a pitcher.
I hated life, I hated love, I hated mankind, I was bitter..

Always ready to attack like those mindless "animals".
I bullied little children and skewed their peace,
I got into fights, I stole, abused and loved at lease.
I murdered the frail, and killed innocent creatures
I was a disgrace as I lived and now, hell's member.

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