Hey! There's poetry behind that woodshed: Long Suffering Death.

By WednesdayAddams - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Friday, November 9, 2012

Long Suffering Death.

Darkness falls all about me, Like blood from a gaping wound. Like a wretched galley slave, Here I am bound. There is no escape from This dark, damp dungeon, That is my eternal home. Happiness is not be had here. This is a prison of dank, foul smells That tears at my lungs, And tortures my weary heart, Mind, and soul. For this, it seems, it is all Too real. This is Maplewood Gardens. Sign in to see full entry.

posted by WednesdayAddams at 11:25 AM | add or view comments (7) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
November 2012
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My poetry is out back behind the woodshed. Let's take a little walk.

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