PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

he stares at the shattered mirror

Blood dripping from the webbed glass

Knuckles cut

tick-

not knowing who he once was

not understanding this primal rage

beaded sweat



tock-



two weeks ago she left him

took the house

took the kids

took his keys

locked him out



tick-tock



The job called yesterday,

he didn't show for work again,

fired on the phone



tick-tock-tick-tock



the rage consumes him

the hatred overcomes him

he unlocks his lock box

takes the glock, slides the clip



times up!

and the bomb explodes as the shell falls.