There's a skeleton that lives in the mirror.
Dregs of a smile and crooked teeth.
Features pinched, despite youth of heart.
Tresses of highly distressed grey
Sockets are yelling,"you coming to play"?
It diced with death.
Playing Russian roulette, in the light of the silvery moon.
Death gave it a break, it was never too soon.

A distinct distortion.
As a wasted abortion, walks over the hill.
Life extinguished with a resounding bang.
Dustbin lids clash and she's gone down the pan.
And now in peace, it's time for sleep.
Emotion exposé ,the perfect played pen.
Wake up in the morning, and do it again.
The end of tonight and it's mournful refrain.
(c)Livvi