Dark Matter
This life isn’t at all what it seems
The fairy tale doesn’t have a happy ending
The worms made sure of that
Wiggling in and out of my corpse
Dirt piles on my yellow bones
The earth sinks down to the depths of hell
Boney fingers claw at me
Pulling me farther down
The smell of burning flesh is stagnant in the air
The pungent aroma hangs in the air
Like the smell of roses in a garden
The End
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
Dark Matter, which
was posted on Jan 21, 2012 by
NikkiHufnagle.
This is a solo poem.
About this poem
"life is dark and then we die"
This poem is filed under:
Abstract
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