Time

Taking my time, I carve out a rhyme,
Right out od my wrist,
By giving this razor a few twists.
I carved it to say,
Kris is going to die. Kris will miss.
I stare at my latest poem on my wrist and say,
Today marks Kristopher's death day.
I see red, my eyes start going black,
I think abou pulling back.
Then I keep going on carving this poem for you,
The lat one I will write. Fr I am to die. This is for you to.
Now it's only a matter of time,
And all the pain for this rhyme.
Hope you enjoy my new poem on pain,
Cause that's a lesson you need to gain.
So here lay Kris, dazed and bleeding,
Knowing what he done is misheaving.
His last words were, "If only I had more....

Time....."