Please register or login to continue

Register Login

Paintings
Paintings

Paintings

firecracker12380Death moon

Every day I work till night,

It was very bright,

One night was different,

Everything was insignificant,

My work came to life,

This made me strife,

Woken from my slumber,

I started to dial a number,

My hand was stopped,

Then my body dropped,

Scared and alone I cried,

I knew I needed to hide,

Outside roamed my creations,

As my army paintings went to their stations,

The colors of my paint,

They all began to faint,

Splattering the colors everywhere,

How could this be fair,

As one caught my eye,

I looked to the sky,

I started to cry,

The sky was one of my paintings,

This was very fascinating,

Then I woke safe in bed,

Grateful I wasn’t dead.

Author Notes: This is just random, but read if you want to. Have fun reading, and any ideas are welcome for new poems!

Recommend Write a ReviewReport

Share Tweet Plus Reddit
About The Author
firecracker12380
Death moon
About This Story
Audience
All
Posted
26 Jun, 2018
Words
121
Read Time
<1 min
Rating
No reviews yet
Views
84

Please login or register to report this story.

More Stories

Please login or register to review this story.