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The Emo



His wrists are covered,

By blood red sweatbands.

His hair died black;

And covering the eye,

on the right.

His face drooped down,

As if beyond the ground.

He is an, EMO



To him,

Life, it's to much,

And must end.

But his sorrow must.

Dressed dark like,

A Goth.

Yet no belief of,

The devil.



He grabs a blade,

Yet just in time.

Marie, his true love,

Yelled and took the blow,

With her forearm.

As she bleed,

she tried to help.

It was to late....

COMMENTS

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ladySnowStrixx
18:59 Feb 13 2009

I really like this one.

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