The love of life
has always felt right
but experiencing the death
of innocence was like
a knife in the back
that would never heal right.
Darkness seeped through
the wound to his soul
and murdered most chances
of growth, and you know?
Pepole, they left
knowing not what to do
to bring him back whole.
This left the man broken
in more than just two,
in thousands of pieces he laid:
cold to the bone.
Locked himself in a mansion, stories untold.
The memories ate away
his mind and soul
as he prayed for salvation
that couldnt save him
from
his pistol.
About the Creator
Marcus Alan Perkins
I’m a father, published author, student, avid reader, husband, and advocate for equality for all. I am going to use this platform for my short stories and poems. Follow me on Facebook: @Author.MarcusPerkins, Twitter handle: @AMarcusperkins
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We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
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By Oneg In The Arctic2 days ago in Fiction
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