“So who’s gonna die today?”

I look down at my feet as the roulette wheel spins around and around again. Never ending. Maybe that what I feel because that’s what I want, for time to stop, no… rewind.

“Red 13!”

The man next to me drops dead, falling into the hands of the old widow, then finally finds his place between between her stilettos and the young boys cleats. Everyone is stoned f...

Boom

They stand all huddled by the door

As he steps forward inspecting the crowd

Boom

Another collapses to the floor

They all try there best to not make a sound

The goal is to not make your self a target

The goal is to survive

But one stands far from it

As the two lock eyes

He points the barrel at you

Beckoning you to stand

It is only the two

As she takes his hand

(Sorry if this doesn’t make ...

In your arms, I found a home

In your gaze , I found peace

In your presence, I found a tomb

To lay with you while we sleep...

This is a short poem I wrote a while back that I thought would fit this prompt.

The mirror displays my flaws for the world to see, the filthy stained mirror that I see clean.

Our minds forced into our own thoughts of self pity staring into the cloudy mirror that I see clean.

The line between critiques and moarning is fogged by the mirror I see clean....

I was lost.

Never found

It said to me “the lost seek to be found but never venture to find”

It left me here not to be found but to find

I get up

I walk

I walk

I walk

I find one that wait to be found and tell it “the lost seek to be found but never venture to find”

It gets up

I walk

It walks

It walks

We find ones that wait to be found and tell them “the lost seek to be found but never venture to f...

I was 3 when my mother died so I don’t remember much about her except that before she passed she told me that she would still be with me while I slept and not to worry. After that I would stay up all night talking to the moon as if it was my mom and I liked to think that it was. After about a month or two father wanted to move on and start a new life and for him that was running away from the prob...

He’s here.

“I’m not ready”

I faintly mutter. I don’t think I ever will be. I grip dads hand tighter as if death would have to physically pull me down through the hospital floor to get me to get me.

“I know honey, I love you”

he spits out through his tears. I let go and stare at him with a slight grin as I lay on the bed waiting for the inevitable.

A cool breeze gusts through the room ...

A Interpretive poem by J.R. DeHaan

The crimson display of decay blossoms while the sun rises revealing the crude world that swallows the souls

Ruby blends with the fall

Soil is the birth of this evil that hides the cruel piece of art

The chilled body lays on that frozen soil and waits to become someone’s muse

A painting shows the wicked nature of what we call society

The last of society is a p...