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Worst Days

by Trilly St.Clair

By Trilly St.ClairPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
1
A poem

Shots rang out

Gun Powder is baby powder where I’m from

The odor is just as familiar as chicken frying.

Victims soil themselves before gaining 3 pounds entering the afterlife.

Life flashes before ashes of your cremation escapes urns and burns of the remainder of the day is all that’s left.

Did we live once or everyday is the debate.

Youngins scream YOLO like they die a thousand deaths instead of one but you decide.

You decide if you should ride this dangerous roller coaster called life without handle bars or safety straps and see where it takes you!

Making it to 22 was 22 reasons to celebrate but the worst days are no days celebrated passed 22!

sad poetry
1

About the Creator

Trilly St.Clair

Life sucks and life’s great so we should create and write things in reflection of that!!

- Trilly

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