The Man He Killed

The bullet now burns deep in my chest,

He shot first, I failed the test,

 

Why were we fighting?

I've got not a clue,

I now lay here dying,

In hundred dollar shoes,

 

I lay on the ground as still as still,

On that day, I was the man he killed.

Reviews

[Tai Ryens]

Simple, but a good poem that tells quite a good story. It explains nicely the thoughts of one who was about to get murdered, or at least it makes sense to think of this before you'd die.
One thing, stanza two, line three, "dieing" is spelled "dying."
Keep that in mind for future pieces.
Amazing work!