untitled
I found an old poem that I had written a few years ago. I read it and decided to tweak it a little and this is was I came up with.
I'm not quite sure why I want to share it. But I will. :)
Warning! The only type of poetry I write is dark.
As I sit all prim and pose, arsenic laced tea pours from my pot into my absent guest's cups.
I wear poison like perfume to keep them at bay, while acid clouds hover outside my door.
Lush thistle adorns my neck complimenting the barbed wire that accents my arms and fingers.
My kisses are fatal from my lipstick in the deadly night shade.
Dark and Damp is the room in which I dwell. Illustrations of sinister scarecrows embellish the ancient walls.
Poison ivy encircles my thrown of chipped stone and dirt.
I just sit here entertained by spiders and snails that squirm across the dirty floor of ground glass.
Forever Idle.
I'm not quite sure why I want to share it. But I will. :)
Warning! The only type of poetry I write is dark.
As I sit all prim and pose, arsenic laced tea pours from my pot into my absent guest's cups.
I wear poison like perfume to keep them at bay, while acid clouds hover outside my door.
Lush thistle adorns my neck complimenting the barbed wire that accents my arms and fingers.
My kisses are fatal from my lipstick in the deadly night shade.
Dark and Damp is the room in which I dwell. Illustrations of sinister scarecrows embellish the ancient walls.
Poison ivy encircles my thrown of chipped stone and dirt.
I just sit here entertained by spiders and snails that squirm across the dirty floor of ground glass.
Forever Idle.