Blood And Gore

Poem By Brendan Miller

I look around each day and see bodies lying,
Drenched in blood and gore they have been torn
To the point of which I question why I was born.

As the gas flows towards my head
I put on my gas mask before I'm as good as dead.
My heart starts to pound, and my breath gets heavy,
Looking around I see the unfortunate of the bevy.
Gasping for air and grabbing at the ground
For the damage the gas is doing is quite profound.

Coughing up blood they fall in silence,
Knowing they died because of useless violence.
As the gun chatter quiets, and the gas disappears,
I sit in a corner and cower in fear.

More and more blood and gore
I know I can't take it anymore.
As I raise my pistol to my head,
I stop and think thank god I'll be dead

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