Way down
Way way down
I said one day as I was going to town
I would turn that frown upside down
And on that day I got a flat tire
Only to find myself getting drawn to the fire
The shot rang out and I heard the screams
Looking back it's not as weird as it seems
Finding myself in the wrong place again
It wasn't the first time, more like number ten
I ran into the fire like you knew I would
Because when there's something you can do you really should
As the two men came charging into sight
There I was alone in a rapid-fire gunfight
The first guy fell
I'll likely see him in hell
But that second guy knew how to play
He was in the fight to stay
We traded shot after shot
But it was all for naught
As he ran out before me
I went up to him to see
Who was this bad guy
I pulled his mask off and began to cry
The bad guy was me
Way down
Way down
I sink into the waters of the past
Knowing that in them I'll drown
About the Creator
Jason Ray Morton
I have always enjoyed writing and exploring new ideas, new beliefs, and the dreams that rattle around inside my head. I have enjoyed the current state of science, human progress, fantasy and existence and write about them when I can.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Keep reading
More stories from Jason Ray Morton and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Broken Telephone
One of my favourite childhood games was one my classmates fondly termed 'Broken Telephone.' The game entailed passing a message to people in a line until the last person received it. The last person usually received a distorted version of the message.
By Michelle Liew5 days ago in Poets
The Dangling Bead
My life is splashing before my eyes, as I precariously suspend and prepare for the end, the consumption of my Self and identity. I know that gravity will be the victor in this struggle. Like a pendant, slipping from the chain, the tension has caught me in this moment, bestowing one last gift of reflection. I cling desperately, questioning my purpose. Searching for comfort. And I remember…
By Leslie Stavena day ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Conflicted, raw, and powerful!!
Excellent poetry,hearted. You come long way. I see you been writing a lot lately . 👏 Bravo.
Excellent job! Sounds like a good country song to me 🤠