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Timothy hill
Poems
Apr 2017
Dirt
You lay at the hem of dirt.
Decaying rot and smells have begone for century's.
Vampire haven and alter high grade of appeal.
Worm's jump as bird''s approach.
He he, you will not succeed for we are specialy made and protect by our creator so hi.
The birds perch of the dead bark growing amber.
Whistling as his friend, path is full of head lights as night tilt's on-wards!
Last second, from those berry on the lawn of his favorite landing.
They were laced with dmt too seed his constuct.
Before words his movement where advancement of a plain
Dark with a twist.
#dark
#mysteries
#shadow
#shade
Written by
Timothy hill
Ny
(Ny)
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