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Murder on a Sunday Morning

Poetry By: Atton Brown
Horror



Me feeling bad on a Sunday after my parents pretty much told me i had no reason to be and wanted to kill them adn me


Submitted:Dec 7, 2009    Reads: 74    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   


“Take a breath”
 
I tell him
 
It could be your last
 
Pray
 
To your imaginary friend
 
Fall on your knees
 
Like the coward you are
 
I hold the gun
 
To his head
 
Stroking
 
The trigger
 
Eager
 
To see him die
 
He begs
 
He pleads
 
I smile
 
As I squeeze the trigger
 
The man is gone
 
Forever
 
The man who abused me by
 
His hands
 
His belt
 
His words
 
I cried
 
He yelled
 
***
Her turn
 
She is unafraid
 
But still she
 
Prays
 
To her imaginary friend
 
On her knees
 
But not out cowardice
 
She brought me here
 
They brought me here
 
But still I squeeze
 
The trigger
 
Proud
That I shall hurt
No more
They hurt me
Every day
But the pain lingers
I hold the gun
To my head
I hear the sirens
They are coming
“Double homicide and
Suicide with no note.”
I squeeze the trigger
But never feel a thing




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