Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2019
Board sign. Black paint.
Wind over the barren waste.
Dust storm. Gut wound.
Three, two, one, toward my doom.

Population 41.
When it's over and done, done,
I have another number
I've assigned to Him,
and by my ******* blood,
He's going to get His.

Population 41.
Does this shanty even have a doctor?
High five the sign as I pass it,
with a ****** palm print.

Welcome, 42.
A Simillacrum
Written by
A Simillacrum
977
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems