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Strangef8's poetry minute.

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7

A bullet named Lucky

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First thing and foremost fuck you and your ways,

Fuck your I'm sorry's and fuck your mistakes,

A cold lonely street is our memory lane,

And these padded white walls are now all that remain,

They remind me that everyone's alone or insane,

They remind me of you and that bullet you named.

 

The sun came up today or that's what I'm told,

I laugh to myself, that joke never gets old,

Through my window I can just see the blue sky,

In this room I'm condemned,

And in this room I will die.

 

You left me a bullet and gun on that day,

I remember that Lucky was that bullet's name,

Spelled out in bright crimson right there on the case,

You said not to miss, put the gun to my face.

 

I look out the window, get a glimpse of the rain,

Like the world is crying just for me and my pain,

For the pills and the dark and my bitter disdain,

Of these padded white walls and my barred window pane.

 

In this quiet white room,

And these empty white halls,

Forever held captive by these white padded walls,

By this door with no knob, and these little white pills,

Little by little I learn how silence kills.

 

You left me a bullet and gun on that day,

I remember that Lucky was that bullet's name,

Spelled out in bright crimson right there on the case,

You said not to miss, put the gun to my face.

 

I remember that I pulled on the trigger that day,

The gun wouldn't have jammed if you'd had your way,

So I checked myself in here, never to leave,

Haunted by nightmares of Lucky and me.

strangef8 Uploaded 10/13/2008
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