Original Poetry Fan Fiction ❯ My Poems ❯ Poem #31 ( Chapter 31 )

[ A - All Readers ]

By: snarky

12/08/2008

Close your eyes and count to three

Spread your fingers, tap your toes

Now die a little death for me

And liken it to sweet repose

Caroline and southern psalms

Going nowhere, going fast

Eyeballs drawn on empty palms

Speak to me, `it will not last'

Early birds are catching worms

Do we greet them? Dare not tell

And we watch them while they squirm

The victims we all know too well

Taken up and rotting out

Feeling feelings fleeing fast

Tell me what it's all about

Speak to me, `it will not last'

Close your eyes and count to ten

Shut your fingers, still your feet

Take a little breath for me

And say repose is bittersweet