deepundergroundpoetry.com

Black cotton shirt

All black clothes feel most comfortable,
The music from past generations in my ear,
Teenage angst Is a hell of a drug as I wallow in this den ,
Lights off candles burning,
poetry of the macabre written on coffee stained pages of a note book ,
I take it in with every hit becoming more cynical for no good reason,
Oh how lovey are these dead flowers on my table reminding me of the outside.
Written by Cannibal_Cain
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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