There you are.
A never healing scar.
Always close never too far.
There you stand.
With your gun in hand.
Screaming at the man.
Determined to choose the way you go.
Now your buried in the cold cold snow.
I wish you would go.
I wish you would leave.
I wish I never thought of you.
I wish the last line was true.
Now your burned into my memory.
A short lived life is such a tragedy.
There you are.
On a neverending replay.
Of that cold winter day.
What I see is a man standing in the early morning sun with a gun in his hand.
This wasn't in my plans.
Bullets are about to fly but where will they land?
Into the chest of the man with the gun in his hand.
©budmac38
B