PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I don't mean shit to you anymore,

I'm tired of trying to be worth more,

I'm going to walk out and slam the door,

Slit my throat and fall down on the floor,

My dead body looks so poor,

Then my soul goes into the earth's core,

The girl you get with now is a whore,

She came along and my blood must pour,

I'll be dead by the count of four,

Hitting myself over the head with iron from ore,

And my soul will not soar,

You vs. me, what's the score?

Sixty-six to forty-four,

The bullet through my head will make a hole bore,

My heart you tore,

Should I continue or,

Will that be enough to end my tour?

Somehow you I still adore.