poetry entry 3
Dec 27, 2017, 04:36am
realgothgirl
Poor poor boy,
he works,
works,
works,
all night and day,
painting the dead,
and digging their graves.

In the morgue,
he works
works,
works,
and he slaves.

In his mind, he feels insane,
no longer can he tell the dead from the living,
he digs himself a grave.


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