PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I hear sobbing in the dark,

I stumble up the stairs to check.

You sit on the floor,

Then rise to the deck.

I follow you but you don't notice,

I try to comfort you, but you don't hear.

You stand over the rail and sob,

I ask "What's the matter dear?"

You turn and walk right past me,

You walk psat like I don't exist.

I follow you to the frount window,

We look at the ocean and rolling mist.

You walk back to our room,

I quietly follow thinking of sleep.

We get to the room,

Something's on the floor in a heap.

I walk over to see what it is,

But I can't get hold of the shirt.

Your outside making alot of noise,

You have a shovel full of dirt.

When you come baxk yo ugrab the heap,

And I finally get to see.

What was on the floor dead,

On the floor dead is me.

You drag me outside to the spot,

Where yo udug my grave.

Full of bloody pillows and  blakents,

In this way you never behave.

I remember that yo uhad her over again,

I was going to leave,to run.

Then a sharp pain shot up my back,

I turned and looked, in your hand, a gun.

You had shot me, for a bad reason,

I always thought you loved me.

But apprently I was wrong,

I can't believed you loved me because you shot me!