I Still

May 11, 2009
By Anonymous

I still smell the stench
of buring and decaying flesh
it fills the city streets
my feet echo a beat
like a drum beat of execution

I still see the pain
in the eyes of the deathly sane
tears cannon fall from my eyes
the deadly gas keeps them dry
like an empty desert
with black skies

I still feel cold from burns
the heat was intense, but now, the wind stings
i still hear the cries for help
i still remember how i stood there

The author's comments:
this poem has no true meaning...but to certain people that read it...they will read it and translate it how they think it is...and thats what i want...what do you think i was writing about?

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!