deepundergroundpoetry.com

Three he thought in theory was a mighty fine number

Silver needles
buried in soft flesh

on Mondays
the dearly depart

we put on our best
yet we're still under dressed

rolling rainstorms
wash away the time that we were here

when hearts hold us back
there no one left to steer
Written by samael (Zaroff poetry)
Published
Author's Note
my last day in the underground is Monday June 18th.


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three_Billy_Goats_Gruff
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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