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Author of 15 Stories |
A poem from Dr. Cox to the late John Dorian.
Time Of Death
by ScathingSarcasm
Beeeeeep...
Time of Death, 3:45 AM
Your skin
is a pallor of white.
You blend
with the uniform sheets.
I wonder
why this is happening.
You didn't
deserve this, did you?
You haven't
killed anyone, have you?
I wonder,
why your life is smothered,
while I still breathe freely,
while my skin is a healthy tan,
so unlike your deathly pale...
Beeeeeep...
Scath: Don't laugh, I know it's stupid... I just felt like posting it. I never post poetry.
So suck it up, biznitchz!
Sensibly,
ScathingSarcasm