Non-Erotic PoetryWar Diaries Day SevenI was being dragged through the sand
By who or what was a mystery
The pain I felt keep me from thinking straight
I could be dead and in hell I keep thinking
Wishful thinking as the hand tugging my uniform
Drops me to the ground
I faintly hear the conversation
The hand tugs me again
I see the faint outline of a building
Then my mind fades to black
I awake to find myself chained to a wall
With a grinning man standing over me.
Share the love
Also in this series
Report a Bug
1 Pages:1
- Recent
Comments - Add a
Comment - Send
Feedback Send private anonymous feedback to the author (click here to post a public comment instead).
English
There are no recent comments - Click here to add a comment to this poem