Only when you're near it,
Only when it misses,
Only when you feel it,
Only when it hisses.
That is the moment,
That is the time,
You realise,
You could be gone.
You could be there,
Yet you are not.
You start to shake,
You are messed up.
Why did it miss you?
Why do you breathe?
Why did it spare you?
What does it need?
Death?
© Copyright: Desperate, 2001
Свидетельство о публикации №101111900059
Свидетельство о публикации №101111900059
Рецензии
На это произведение написано 6 рецензий, здесь отображается последняя, остальные - в полном списке.