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There stood a little boy of five.
Doesn't know what it means to be alive.
Below him, his mother bleeds to death.
He watches as she takes her final breath.
He doesn't understand that she's dead.
His hand slowly pats her head.
He stands there until he's bored.
His mom's not really fun anymore.
"I love you," he wished she would say.
He dropped the knife and walked away.
- by WriterOfPoetry |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 08/12/2013 |
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- Title: Boy of Five
- Artist: WriterOfPoetry
- Description:
- Date: 08/12/2013
- Tags: death murder morbid dark
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