The Man on 2nd st.

The blood pouring from his lips and excreting from those saddened green eyes

All the nights he spent curled up on cardboard covered in failed dreams and with thoughts of a lost family

A purple heart tucked away in that tattered army issued jacket stolen by his cruel attackers

The man they call John Doe in that frigid morgue was once a soldier young and eager to fight for that cause he believed in

But now he lays there with no one to stake claim on the brave warrior who lost his way

He believed in heaven and happiness but time took his hope away

And he became a shadow of the man he was

The last thing he remembered was being beaten to death by young strangers because they thought they had something to prove

By brutalizing an elderly man



About Into Oblivion

It's a midnight Kiss from Hell A sweet spell that Poetry sells to my shadowy mind I just like writing random poetry and shit
This entry was posted in Cold, Cruel, Dark, Emotion, Horror, Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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