PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

His tired of the outfit he had every day

a new spot of blood,

he cries at night and stares in surprise in the day,

the toys he created now answer back,

lose demons out to the world,

due to time they multiplied,

to busy to create new life,

his toys searched for another way out,

the angels he send even now sin everyday,

at first he had to bleed but no pain in his mind,

now he sees what he died for

and now more than ever his wounds hurt,

innocent souls very few,

only lasting like a year or two,

so it seems he is tired of what he sees

cause I see him changing clothes,

at first

a very white bright light outfit he was wearing,

now the suit spilling with blood,

so now he says is time,

he thinks a tangible suit appears all black,

he laughs and say the times is right!!

I cry to see once again he going to leave,

he looks at the few still trying to make it,

he holds my hand says son I wont forget,

I know he doesnt

cause he gave me a love that is everything to me,

so I know with me he still thinks,

I will wear the black outfit

cause this world cant see anything else,

but I still will have a white bright rope,

for the people that still believe

that they are free,

so I kneel down every night

a prayer to him I say,

he wears now the black rope

but I know the bright white for me he wears

and for all his sons

wanting to make the best of the dying cruel world

it becomes