Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2016
Nary a **** was given that day,
as the writer decided to fade away.
He tightened the rope, and whispered a prayer,
and took that final step off the chair.

Folks mostly wondered "What was he ON?"
Rumors and whispers, all when it was done,
but he wasn't "human", and now he was gone,
and no **** was given- no, not a ****** one.
I might need a bigger tombstone
Clayborn Todd Wooton
338
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems