Poetry · Writing

Tragedy

Trampled. They didn’t

see it coming. Holding

for the right stop,

waiting a stampede

too long. They didn’t

see it coming. Feared

fares and fangs reaped

the rewards, the award

for worst case

the ripped face

goes to me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s