Falling
Moins d'une minute de lecture
Gunshots are being heard
Bodies are falling
Splashing down the concrete
Rain is slowly falling.
Sometimes I wish I were a bird
I'd fly away from the rotting meat
I'd chirp and stretch my wings
Unaware of the bloody killings
I'd fly under the rain
Slowly falling.
Then a bullet'd cross my brain
Slowly,
falling.
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