The Writers Voice
The World's Favourite Literary Website



Shannon Billings

The cold bottle on their cracking lips
The sweet stench of their delusions
The blackening lungs with each breath
Our heroes are different here

The shining metal of their kitchen knives
The glistening point of a needle dream
The loudest music drowning out their pain
No, our heroes aren’t the same

When all lost faith in them
They assumed the rest were right
And through the darkness
They knew it was a hopeless fight

They know this is wrong
But they have nothing
And they knew that all along

No one to trust
With so many knives in their backs
Faded souls at barely fifteen
You closed your eyes
When they needed to be seen

Yes they’re the troubled youth
And the hopeless future
They’re the black in the night
They’re the ones who lost the fight
They’re the forlorn
They are the forgotten
Nothing to believe in
Everything to lose
They’re the beginning
And they are the end
They are the problem
Without a sum
They are what happens
When the real heroes never come

Critique this work

Click on the book to leave a comment about this work


All Authors (hi-speed)    All Authors (dialup)    Children    Columnists    Contact    Drama    Fiction    Grammar    Guest Book    Home    Humour    Links    Narratives    Novels    Poems    Published Authors    Reviews    September 11    Short Stories    Teen Writings    Submission Guidelines

Be sure to have a look at our Discussion Forum today to see what's
happening on The World's Favourite Literary Website.