Final Stand

I wrote this right after I was Sentenced by the judge.

More or less I was born
Into a world where pain is ignored
All I have is this six gun in my hand
Behind this gun,
I shall make my final stand
With the dust in the air.
My hair blowing in the wind.
Gazing on ward at the men walking toward me
Having no fear in my eyes
I stand in wait for their final lies.
While the crazy feelings of death poor
Over me like acid
The only thought that goes though this mind of mine
“Why, do u suppress me?”
With the pain that flows though my body,
And that hate that comes off theirs
I ready my self for my last breath
I draw my gun with a shaky hand
Looking at my partner, I smile
She pulls her gun and fires
With the smell of gun power and blood in the air
I look in disbelief in what just happened!
I fall back with this six gun in my hand
On the ground where I made my final

Reviews

[Dimples87]

I, too, agree with the previous comment. I love poetry that tell a story. This poem and the previous poem I read "My Own Prison," and it really struck me as a reflective piece but this one goes deeper into one's psyche as to how they even got where they were in the previous poem.

[nighttimesnoozer]

i hope this isnt a suicide note because if it is then damn thats a dumb thing to do, if this is a writing material to let feelings out then good work you fooled me