poetry, prose, and other strings of words · 1993 - 2003
Forsaken
Number 65
February 13, 1995
Adapted from a shortstory by Ryan S. Baker
Take a look at the lovely sky,
Such a pretty day,
But the rooom,
a jail
Of that drab and ugly life of mine;
All so boring,
colorless,
Fight to fight but nothing
Won but a little more time;
Love is dead,
Has died;
But everything around
Is funny,
oh so funny,
Everyone's life is so drab and wretched;
I hate them,
And you;
The rifle only laying upon the wall,
Pain the only emotion;
I know not why;
Loaded… waiting for 5,
Forsaken,
To Hell I go,
Only to discover I was wrong.