My Murder

by Tony   Sep 6, 2018


The blood was red when I was killed
But has long since dried and cracked
My body cold, no longer filled
With warmth, a knife is in my back

Eyes are cloudy no longer see
But that means they cannot be fooled
By all the tricks and all the lies
Muddling the blood that long since cooled

No longer boiling I've found peace
You just can't boil an empty pot
My anger, finally deceased
In the mansion that time forgot

1


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 2 weeks ago

    by Ben Pickard

    The Big Sleep sounds like a peaceful thing indeed...
    Well written, Tony.

    Ben