Anger
By Kei lynn
Her voice is sweet, never dead, Her sword falls to her hip, Her dress is red, Her eye is black, and feeled with tears, She's fighting back, Not filled with fears. She gets back up, Her sword infront, He laughs at her, Because of her want, She rans up fast, They hit their swords, Eyes lock with eyes, He's getting bored. He throws her off, She hits the wall, She stands back up, Her bodies, numb no one to call, He's comming closer, She feels so weak, Suddenly she's at her peek, Her sword it flies, Into his chest, Now he knows he shoul've messed, With some other foolish girl. Written April 20th, 2002 © on Apr 20 2002 01:54 AM PST, Melinda Hatfield 18 • 0 • 9
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"Her voice is sweet,..."