deepundergroundpoetry.com

The first shots were fired at sunrise

 
It’s funny how we're afraid to start,  
using life as an excuse and run for tomorrow,  
 
Life is nearer; face down in the mud,  
and I won’t touch it, alive or not,  
 
I run to the one with their head split open  
with a vision of blood pumping – like a fresh ornament,  
 
My whole life has been about confronting my fears,  
and if not for death I wouldn’ have known where to stop.  
Written by Pishashee
Published
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