You Couldn't Take It, by ♥ Leah ☺
Posted: 2009-06-30 20:04:52 UTC
Your dance with the devil was fun,
Until he decided, to reload his gun.
Why is it every time we play Russian roulette,
Your forehead breaks out into a cold sweat?
Is it not your wish that you die yet?
Well I have been for a dance with grim,
I looked into the eyes, and noticed they’re dim.
But I watched them fill with a glint of hope,
When he spiked your drink with lethal dope.
I’ll probably see you in a few years time,
Your part of death now, your life is mine.
This poem has no votes yet
To vote, you must be logged in.