I haven’t written anything here for a bit, so I wrote this a few minutes ago to put up. That’s about it, really.
Just dirt falling from the spade
circled by grave robbers, bone diggers
his well-lit home far away
above a curious coffin, a voice sniggers
‘We all need help, friend’
disappear amongst the aimless streetlights
haunting his familiar doors
he runs his fingers over the night
to find it won’t speak, not once, not anymore
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