Imposter Leather Poem by Kelsey Bachmeier

He holds the gun up high
acts as if its a token
looks above and asks the lord why

he tried to clear his throat
reaches in his pocket
and then slips out his note

he grabs the other bullets
opens up the chamer
even though its fully loaded

his feet are planted in the mud
pleading for a bloody flood

once more he puts the gun in contact with his head
the rain is pouring harder now
and then thoughts of her in bed

her face is on his mind
his finger on the trigger
thoughts of her leaving him behind

a red sweater,
now covered by imposter leather.