She was the last to see it. <br />She didn't have time to run. <br />She sat there <br />like a deer caught in headlights, <br />and stared at the man with the gun. <br />She thought about screaming, <br />but it stuck in her throat. <br />She watched the man cock the hammer, <br />on his rusty old <br />double action colt. <br />She couldn't believe it would go down like this. <br />Two rounds, strait to her chest. <br />But as she fell, her last thoughts were peaceful. <br />And now, <br />she'll be able to rest.<br /><br />Tori Beals<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/unfortunate-6/
