Small, Cold, Flame


Written in November 2005

Small, cold, flame
Reminds him of the man who is writing in the shadows
What’s his name?
Doesn’t matter now there was no one there to call him

I ask you now
See his pain
Final words lay down
Mark your shame

Ink runs black
His whitened hand is shaking as he scribbles out this verdict
Breath drawn back
A teardrop falls a smears his name, no one now will read it


This room feels cold
Darkness presses in and it’s too late now to stop it
Red lines bold
Now they spread across the page, no one hears him screaming

Final words lay down
Mark your shame

copywrite Lauren Foster