Blood Tea

I brew tea so hot that it scorched my tongue
Pierced my skin with bullets from a golden gun
My tears grew tired of falling from my eyes
My mind whispered to me all its possible lies
Life is a solemn gift of sadness till death
Faces grew prominent and drew their first breath
From four walls were birthed theses faces
In truth just eyes and lips hung in unfitting places
All monotone in emotion until they became old
My walls fade from white to a flame filled gold
The steam from my tea caresses my face sexually almost
I feel my blood joined the tea in my cup becoming fully engrossed
My tongue now burned having a void in taste
I drank a profusion of blood in a inane haste
My head grew heavy while my heart grew cold
Is this what death feels like to a sixteen year old
It must be death for I feel my soul being moved
I have perturbation not rest hence my soul is not soothed
Faces on my walls finally formed tongues to say
Finally he's taken his life away

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem