Murder is a wrecking ball
It will hit anything on its way
After destroying the building, it does not take the bricks away
The dust lifts up and surrounds the crowd, the buildings around and it gets out loud
Even when the dust lays low
It will take some time, but it will show
The dust moves away by wind, by time
But the bricks I pick them as if they were mine
And all the clouds could not cover the dust, the sunlight shines wherever it must
Dust crawls in every notch and crack
As murder does, cause it wants to wreck
Causing destruction on both sides of the fence
Hoping you will jump onto it, to its defence
But be aware cause it will trick you kind,
As you might think “revenge is mine”
About the Creator
Tarita Rehm
I love writing, poetry, make up artistry and photography.
Someone told me: “You are who you are, because of the things that happened to you in the past”. I said: “No, I am who I am because of the choices I made despite those things”.
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My Proza
The bucket screams with a scraping sound, gliding over the floor tiles. When she squeezes the sponge, I hear water seeping back into the bucket. The sound of stubborn dirt that does not want to let go of its soil. It does not matter how long she will wipe and how many stains disappear. She will never get rid of this dirt.
By Tarita Rehm7 years ago in Poets
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