deepundergroundpoetry.com

under the scyamore tree

if i weren't
already dead,
i may attempt
to dig
my way out
of this tomb,
this too little
dirt covered
hotel room,
no charges,
no room service,
no checkout times,
at least
my bed
is always made,
but no one
leaves chocolate
on my pillow.
Written by abetterstart (james skinner)
Published
Author's Note
i realize this is darker than what i normally write, to those that this poem may bother, i apologies in advance.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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