PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

From her

Mouth

To her lungs

Her heart

Then head

In 60 seconds

She’ll be dead

To comfort her

From the life

She so dread

Off she goes

From her bed

First one

Then two

Then others led

Off she comes

from her head

She didn’t care to listen

And now her life feeds

On addiction

To the ceasing  reconviction

Of this jurors

Contradiction

Blowing it out

nose and ears

Vacating her life

In so called fears

Everything was wrong with her

But never her tears

They drop to the ground

Of yester years

Ones she would waste

On constant gears

Turning the life

She could never cheers

Ones she didn’t have nor use

She hung them

By a fuse

And to her

We should accuse

Because us

She will use

Use for money

Use for fame

To her it’s one big game

But lets not be played

To her we are a shame

But what we think of her?

She is lame

With no excuse to claim

What evil this to name

The nastiness this to hold

Her life will be

But forever cold