Angel with a shotgun,
When I see her I flee,
But why do I run,
When that angel is me?
Triggers constantly pushed,
But no bullet comes out,
The gunshot is hushed,
Bullet takes a new route.
They see her as weak,
Don't notice her glare,
She's seen as a freak,
And her anger flares.
Please beware,
One day it might hit.
YOU ARE READING
Drowned By the Ashes
PoetryI don't remember when I started drowning. I was probably just born in the water. *TRIGGER WARNING!!!* My earliest poetry that evolved as time went by.
