A landscape washed in white.
A Fright, the fight, shed no light.
Turned a fawn at dawn.
This is wrong...
For how long?
A pitch black streak,
Speak speak speak!
Use your words, little squeak.
I am weak!
I am weak,
...I am weak.
Flash red it says!
Flash red again.
Don't you bend.
It's when it pours,
That you will reign.
Crush the spiders,
Make them pay!
The sky! The sky!
It's you, you sprite.
It's either dark,
Or a delight.
The choice is yours.
What have you chose?
To Fill the space
With unkept rows?
The sun shines yellow,
On the heads.
Raise the dead!
Raise the dead.
The words from here,
The only to hear.
Listen I say,
Open the door,
Open the door.
Partly grey wouldn't you say?
What do you choose,
To whom do you listen?
Around every corner,
Lies another mourner.
My brother
My mother
My sister
My wife.
It is strife,
This is life.
The children are out playing.
Sit here, watch while smiling
And when the moment comes...
They'll need you to be saying:
If you took the batter,
And ate it all up.
Then you had nothing left for cookies.
Sorry.
But,
It's when you make the batter,
Then eat it all up,
When you know you're with the rookies.
About the Creator
Bri Mary
Hello everyone, I appreciate that you took the time to read or even look into my writing. I write story poetry and there is always more than meets the eye. Just like people.
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