Something about me wrenches out of my mouth
And twitches like an animal dying of a sickness
Polluting the floor with my broken opinions
Mutilated philosophies and morbid attractions
The Reaper man, the Reaper man, walks behind my face
With killing breath and spitting death laying us to waste
Only she knows, and she's deffinately not speaking
To you or anyone
"I don't write about Death
I use Death
To write about everything else"
Author notes
That about sums it up. Thanks for coming.
A contest entry
- Poetry Themes by Nicole Hanna.
1000 points, ended March 3, 2007, 21 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Those last three lines are really incredibly. I think I want to print those out and sleep with them tonight. lol.
Adding your comment:
