Categories > Original > Poetry2 Reviews
I glance around the room again.
Something beginning with c,
Go ahead and take a guess,
Tell me what you see.
All I see are piles of red,
Piled up high, dripping down,
The room feels empty and oh, so cold,
There's nothing, not a single sound.
I glance around the room again,
"Ceiling," slips from my lips,
You shake your head, I simply frown,
I look around again, hands on hips.
I take one stop forward, but two steps back,
"They're people!" I cry, "they're dead,"
You plunge a knife into my chest,
"Corspes," was the word I never said.