Red to Black Roses.
Now on death row,
déjà vu she has had him there before,
In his mind, that bitch had to go,
Looking straight with no remorse,
Surrounded by walls,
Little light penetrating through the cracks,
Of these molded wallsShe drowned his soul,
Broke the only happiness he ever worn,
That’s why he put two
Three
Probably fourLeft her soaked on her own blood,
As she choked,
He recited her the poems
Now we both mourn. I
bet in her mind,
She thought she could crawl,
Rush to the door, Too sad,
It was all too late too cold,
Angels already all around to take her home.
Yours,
Bahati M.
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