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Death
Poems
Apr 2017
Spread
How does it spread
The sickness that invades our bed
The very place we lay
Stricken in red
Reading what you see
But did you understand what I said
Read it again for the meaning behind it
Try to clean my face
But I clown around in my own Skit
Maybe if I wasn't me
My life wouldn't be unfit
Still searching for my path
While lurking around
I lost the love for the things I do hath
All because of the people
Who dare haunt My past
Being in a place that
I know will never last
From flesh to dust
May death return me to ash
Don't let your own illness spread.
#purifiyingnegativity
Written by
Death
Jackson
(Jackson)
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