Wrong Turn
I lay crying in the woods,
Bloody knees and a broken nose,
The rain is falling washing away some blood,
My hair is knotted and filthy with who knows.
No one travels this dirt road,
This is to much of a mental load,
Are they waiting so quiet,
Will this end in a riot.
My clothes are tattered and torn,
My heart is full of nothing but scorn,
I hear them walking in the woods,
I run frantically my senses are no good.
I hide behind a tree,
Hopefully they won't see me,
Their knifes and hatchets make me panic,
They call my name now I'm frantic.
I pray to the saints for divine intervention,
Getting killed was never my intention,
I just wanted to camp and have fun,
Now I know my life is done.
They grab my hair and drag me back,
I'm traveling inside some kind of sack,
My doom is now sealed I hear from above,
I regret not saying I love you to those I loved.
I hang now from ropes tied to the roof,
My soul needs no more proof,
The pain is agonizing and too much to deal,
All I can do is cry and squeal.
They draw the knife from the table,
I know now escape is now unable,
He makes small horrifying slits,
And a dose of salt is what I get.
A lit cigar is next an his list,
I try to go somewhere else in my mind finding no bliss,
He pokes me with a shallow point,
The pain sits in at my joints.
He removes my bones one by one,
I hope he is having fun,
I am dying there is no doubt,
I wish I had taken another route.
I'm sorry my family and loved ones,
Sorry for all the things I've said and done,
I'll see you one day in heaven,
It's sad I died at eleven.
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