PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I’m sitting on the railroad tracks

My legs dangling over the edge of the bridge

Overlooking an ice cold body of pollution.

A black cigarette rests between my lips

Filling my lungs with its sweet poison

Waiting for the sun to go down.

Engines whistle in the distance

A whirling confusion

But my thoughts are set.

Cold steel beneath my fingers rumbles

Are you ready for me God?

They’re coming for us.

I can feel it.

I will not serve.

They can’t tell me I’ve done wrong.

Are you ready for me God?

The whistling is getting closer,

Getting louder

And louder,

And louder

1, 2, 3 lay flat

two sawed off legs fall bloody into the river

Ended.