What the Hell?

A criminal in his cell. With a T.V and radio, what the hell? Three meals a day A library down the hall, A fully kitted gym Even football. Enough to keep him going untill his thoughts get too much, Can’t express his fellings Craves that human touch. He’s lost in his memories but forgets her

Seeing Death

Last one goes in, goes down crippled, keeled, floor pressing hard against my double crown. Dizzy, dazed feeling out for the door struggling, curled out on the floor. Sweat, tears, body’s being bled, gagging, chocking only bloods being shed. I shut my stinging eyes to deaths smile, it’s attacking from inside agony it’s vile. Needing