I found him dead
My son
My son was dead.
How could this be?
He was stabbed
In the chest.
A kitchen knife dug into his heart.
Who would do this?
My poor baby
My only baby.
I cry out
And reach for his fists
Only to see blood already on my hands.
I killed my son.
Oh no
I killed my baby.
The meds stopped working.
I thought I was better
How could they have stopped working?
Then,
I remember,
I forgot to take my meds this morning.
YOU ARE READING
My Poetry
PoetryMost of this is sad, any TW will be at the start of them I'm a 16 y/o just wanting to share some of my poetry with people other than my friends :] (Also feel free to comment any tips and how I could improve on my writing!)
