Here's a poem I made real quickly. Sorry if it may seem a little choppy. Hope you like it.
They sleep with broken dreams,
They cry with shattered tears,
A death causes thee to lose a part of their soul,
A death causes pain, sorrow, and hate
One cannot describe how sad one may feel,
One cannot describe the painful memories
Slipping on black colored attire,
Carrying red roses and gifts,
You stare and place your flower amongst the long wooden coffin,
A priest says his prayer, though he hardly knew thee,
Why would he bless us? If he hardly knew us
A death is pain to the heart, soul, and mind,
One cannot live with such pain in their life,
A death should not be witnessed, it cause such grief,
That why I say stop with the murder
You cause others to weep,
You cause others to toss and turn in their sleep,
The deaths that you cause for your pleasure, and for mine,
They make people cry. They make other people die.
They sleep with broken dreams,
They cry with shattered tears,
A death causes thee to lose a part of their soul,
A death causes pain, sorrow, and hate
It's a little all over the place so bear with me. I wrote it on the spot. It's not as good as some of the other poems I've seen out there; I just thought I'd post something up.
They sleep with broken dreams,
They cry with shattered tears,
A death causes thee to lose a part of their soul,
A death causes pain, sorrow, and hate
One cannot describe how sad one may feel,
One cannot describe the painful memories
Slipping on black colored attire,
Carrying red roses and gifts,
You stare and place your flower amongst the long wooden coffin,
A priest says his prayer, though he hardly knew thee,
Why would he bless us? If he hardly knew us
A death is pain to the heart, soul, and mind,
One cannot live with such pain in their life,
A death should not be witnessed, it cause such grief,
That why I say stop with the murder
You cause others to weep,
You cause others to toss and turn in their sleep,
The deaths that you cause for your pleasure, and for mine,
They make people cry. They make other people die.
They sleep with broken dreams,
They cry with shattered tears,
A death causes thee to lose a part of their soul,
A death causes pain, sorrow, and hate
It's a little all over the place so bear with me. I wrote it on the spot. It's not as good as some of the other poems I've seen out there; I just thought I'd post something up.