Smell
It permeates the space in which I dwell.
A nasty, awful, disgusting smell.
In a corner of hell, around the way,
"It smells like death." I heard them say.
Surely they jest, surely they play.
Could I really smell this way?
Alone I am where I dwell...
I am death...and I smell.
Copyright © Tamara Reyna | Year Posted 2016
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