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My Book of Poems

Poetry

So... this is going to be a book of poems. some about my life, some just when creativity hit me. Please no hatred, some of this is stuff I'm really sensitive about. Some of these will be depressing. You were warned. PLEASE READ THIS BOOK. -comment...

Waiting For The End

47 3 3

by schnolden

by schnolden

Here's another old one:

Run.

Fast.

Down the stairs,

Where?

There!

A dusty corner,

Knees to my chin,

my arms wrapping around my legs,

I don't want to let go.

Waiting.

What will it be like?

The wail of a siren,

The squeal of decent,

Bright light,

White-hot pain,

My very essence full of smoldering coals,

then...

What?

I don't know.

Waiting.

Waiting for the end.

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Ok so this poem was supposed to be from the point of view of someone who's town was getting bombed in a war and what they might have thought or felt before the bomb hit. I wasn't sure if it was clear or not in the poem so I put this little footnote.