by Unknown
May 2010 311 Views 4 comments
Gone
My love is gone,
my life is gone,
where's that perfect fitting glove.
My brain is locked,
my gun is cocked,
my soul flows down the drain,
My coffin is oak,
my headstone's a joke,
nobody comes and visits.
I did this,
it was all my wish,
now I guess I'm finally free.
my life is gone,
where's that perfect fitting glove.
My brain is locked,
my gun is cocked,
my soul flows down the drain,
My coffin is oak,
my headstone's a joke,
nobody comes and visits.
I did this,
it was all my wish,
now I guess I'm finally free.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2010
About this poem:
Although this poem might be a little morbid. I sometimes like to switch up the order of the rhyme.Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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Comments (4)
Good poem
Swan