Changes

by Bella   Sep 15, 2013


The sun has died miles wide
the wind blows through the cracks
the louder moan of wolf packs
they all move closer
as a gun slowly moves from its holster
bang
silence
as quiet as a simple bullet its self
when out in silence why the gun is back on its dusty shelf.

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Latest Comments

  • 11 years ago

    by Amy

    Really well constructed poem! This is really good, Sad yes but non the less brilliant

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