literature

Goodnight

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Amateur-Poet's avatar
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Published:
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Literature Text

A young boy
With a glow from his smile,
Plays with his toys,
No worry in this child.
He was curious and awed,
With a wondrous grin,
Eyes glistening at everything he saw,
So much better then…

A young child,
Stepping onto the bus,
Looks back at his mother,
With a fearful plea in his eyes.
“Mom, please don’t make me!”
He shed a tear,
And ran back.
He looked up at his mother,
Tears flowing free,
And muttered,
“Please, please, please, no…”

A young man,
Arrives at his empty home,
And wonders what happened to his plans.
He goes upstairs and grabs his comb,
He begins to brush his hair,
And looks at his reflection.
He is disgusted at what is there,
Hating his afflictions.
He slams his comb down,
And walks out…

He returns with his friend.
They’d spoken so many times before.
She was his best friend.
She’d helped him for his entire life,
This wasn’t their first meeting like this.
She was accustomed to this.
He’d think about it, and then simply leave her.
But she can tell today is different.
As he cries in his bed, fighting for peace,
She simply sits across the room, looking at him.
Begging for him, promising peace, if he’d just take her.
He looks at her, and finally takes her in his arms,
She moves in slowly to his lips,
They kiss as he cries...

Then he pulls the trigger.
Well, well, well. I royally screwed the rhyme scheme. Again.

Be sure to leave a comment telling me your opinion or critique. I greatly appreciate it.
© 2015 - 2024 Amateur-Poet
Comments20
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TegzyPuff97's avatar
This poem is really high impact. You don't need rhyme to create great poetry. This left a really weird lingering feeling. I mean really weird. I don't know what did it.