Veins drained dry,
The poor corpse lies,
Cold & broken,
In the corner.
Bullet in her heart,
Arm cut apart,
Body lying stiff,
Waiting to be discovered.
She had no choice,
Could not be saved by her voice,
What else is there to do,
When you're gonna die anyway?
All her blood on the floor,
Finally someone opens the door,
To find the mess,
That they've caused.
They find her there,
Laugh & stare,
Relieved that they didn't have to do it.
She was different,
& Therefore judged,
She was a witch,
& That caused them to be gruff.
Life can be cruel,
People harsh,
What else can I say,
They feel no shame in their hearts.
A shattered heart,
& Bleeding scars,
Are what this girl,
Had to suffer.
cold and broken. good write. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
if this was a movie, it would be a horror. I like it the imagery is just tight.