I wasn't.
Sorry, I mean.
It felt better to be dead,
Than be sorry for the heinous,
Drudgerous, torturous, wondrous,
Felonies I did. It felt happy, that I ended
Their miseries. I'm not sorry. I am glad.
Glad, that they begged for the life
They took away from my body.
I stabbed some, shot one.
Rest of them jumped,
Into their deaths.
But I'm not.
Sorry, I mean.
~:ZG:~
YOU ARE READING
Yin and Yang
Poetry"Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen." ― Leonardo da Vinci "Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the...