Love Is A Murderer
It's a poem about how I fill about what love is. It is kind of sad to think someone would feel this hurt but hey everyone hurts sometimes. (I, guess) But I hope you like it.
Love is a murderer,
And I was shot.
And I was hit with the bullets of cruel affronts.
I lay on the solid ground.
Shedding the bitter blood that love has stained on me.
Why must It be me who cries.
It would be quite hilarious if they knew it was I who killed me.
Or was it that love choked me.
And I just finished the job.
But years go by,
It seems no one notices.
It was as I were still here, drifting.
The ocean has turned to blood,
And I have turned to bones.
Now washes me away,
To my new murder filled home.
And I was shot.
And I was hit with the bullets of cruel affronts.
I lay on the solid ground.
Shedding the bitter blood that love has stained on me.
Why must It be me who cries.
It would be quite hilarious if they knew it was I who killed me.
Or was it that love choked me.
And I just finished the job.
But years go by,
It seems no one notices.
It was as I were still here, drifting.
The ocean has turned to blood,
And I have turned to bones.
Now washes me away,
To my new murder filled home.
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