Walls fall down, people run, the graphic disturbance of the night is done.The blast, the last man running,
I see the blast coming,
I wait for the gun, the muzzle flash, the random gun,
The damage is done, the life of the man they’ll no doubt talk about.
When they wake up, the night will be eclipsed by the screams and shouts.
I see the flash and I drop,
His life, my life, their lives and the world stops,
The power of the gun, the words in my mind, the life before me cut out,
His hers, theirs and ours.
I wait, the bathroom, but he’s there. He’s waiting, the muzzle flash, my life gone, hers…his…theirs.
I wake, but the night is still screaming. The blackness is coming, the pain…it’s almost gone.
I’ll never hold him again, her again.
Another flash, my life gone: hers…his…ours.
Powerful poem!
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