Dreams Of Rage Poem by Edward James

Dreams Of Rage

Rating: 2.8


A grunt.
A moan.
An exaggerated sound of released compressed air.
Your sweet lips parted,
And I heard your last breath.
Forever in my wildest daydreams I won't forget,
For I don't regret my actions,
But I do regret your blood on my shirt.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Tina Mathurin 27 January 2008

As if tortured /haunted /tormented by the death of someone very close to him

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