I want to go where i hear,
there are soon too be aliens near-
A prophesy from a baby still in the womb,
the last of my skin tape will cover this gloom;
Magic teeth on a string,
sacrifice the children,
so the dirt will sing~
There is no world before you open the door
when close your eyes there is not a floor
nothing is real,
Nevermore.
YOU ARE READING
My Sweet Grave Digger
PoetryI use to have an anger so big, it could fill up any house. Poems from the garage attic.