Pulled the trigger, cold to warm; my heart beats,
sweat on my cheek, silence. Nothing solved,
nothing gained, just broken
dreams and
broken guns.
Pulled the trigger, cold to warm; my heart beats,
sweat on my cheek, silence. Nothing solved,
nothing gained, just broken
dreams and
broken guns.
Wow, Mike. I’ve been reading the poems you have on here and I’m surprised at how dark they are. I mean they’re good, but surprisingly dark.
Well, the poems are bits of inspiration really. I’m terrible at poetry, so I try to keep it to a minimum. Dark themes are subjective I’d say; I don’t see them as overly dark as just realistic to the way some people tend to see the world. Thanks for reading Kory!