Suffer

I suffer,
can't breath
I repeat
But can't scream.


Smoke.
Surrounding me.
The burning of skin smells the room.
I'm 17.
It's too soon.
Why was it me?

I'm stuck.
I can't break free.

Sirens ring.
They are coming after me.
I found my escape.
Now to make my run.

They are scraping my tail.
Their's no way I'd get away.
I killed Four innocent.
However I don't remember what for.


I suffer
I can't stand
I'm down on my knees.
I'm 17
It's way to soon.
Why was it me?




Poetry by Andrew A. L
Read 628 times
Written on 2012-09-15 at 01:02

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