Stoned
By TRIXSTER
An inevitable reminiscence
Of the pathetic death of innocence…
I am a distorted way of life
A place of bliss, away from this strife.
I am chained in the city's center square,
For all to mock, and all to stare.
Revolt and disgust look my way
As I drown into dismay…
Why have I been chosen to tread this path?
Forever a subject of merciless wrath?
As I reach with a mangled hand
To try to grasp hope's last strand,
A darkness begins to flood,
Draining my soul, drinking my blood.
My mind collapses and I die,
But no one is there, to care or cry.