I
Type this
Poem in a hurry
For my time runs thin
And my fingers begin to bleed
As my veins pop out of my skin
My lungs collapse and eyes blinden
As my coffen closes and my skin itches
As my voice gasps and my muscles tighten
Witches put this curse on me, I dont see why
But knowing my death grows closer and closer
Leaves me in this box hurt and my eyes crying
A short poem for I have no more time left, thankgod
A dead writer out of Toledo Oregon suffocated..
Out of breath, my poetry left me a frawd.