Perfection Is Flawed

Russian Roulette. - Poem by Perfection Is Flawed

In the resounding darkness

Spin, a blur of
cold steel
a metallic merry-go-round
where someone may/will/must
get off.

The scent of gunpowder
choking, it fills your lungs
your senses

Fear or Anticipation
Nervous Excitement, this is all that you know

Put it to your forehead,
against your mind
this weapon that’s your universe

pull the trigger.


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Poem Submitted: Friday, August 4, 2006

Poem Edited: Saturday, August 21, 2010

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