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by Hidden Meaning Sep 30, 2005 category : Sadness, depression / about death
The black rats hanging from the doors their tales now pale white death crept upon them in poison young boys calling out to friends picking teams one always left out the Titch Miller of the group the reject has been thrown out. leaves turning colors, the shades of bruises as they fall one by one upon the skin waiting for the last blow to the ground the judgment on face the promising look of disappointment shame grips the soul holding it in a vice blood trickles down our sides drip by drip, it forms a puddle the surface now covered the lines drawn the smile of the adrenaline rush like black birds on a cable he jumped, the rope now tight sucking the life out of his body the familiar thought of death the whine of a puppy that shriek, the screaming plunging into the darkness with no hope of any return the grass now cold frozen solid in place once a meadow full of flowers the one dandelion is all thats left eyes fixed upon the earth the soil thrown at the oak ashes to ashes, dust to dust he drew his last breath his heart finally stopped.© Copyright J.A.
