deepundergroundpoetry.com
coming another storm
he couldn't
sleep
that night,
heavy,
undressed
the trees,
hear
the chorus,
lurching at
riddled
corpses,
he had
a drink
and scrawled
his name.
sleep
that night,
heavy,
undressed
the trees,
hear
the chorus,
lurching at
riddled
corpses,
he had
a drink
and scrawled
his name.
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