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scythe

He came to my bedside

And told me all things must die

I stared through him

At the teeth chattering on the walls

At the decaying bouquets

At the bodies piled up

In the corner of the room

I took his hand

And he smiled

scythe

◄ lost highways

palm polly ►

Comments

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Stu Buck

Thu 16th Jul 2015 14:24

I thought it tasted a bit off...

<Deleted User> (13762)

Thu 16th Jul 2015 12:54

great poem Stu - hope it wasn't the salmon mousse

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