A Greenhouse Filled With Ghosts That Are Filled With Ghosts
They were haunting me
And now they want to be
Engraved
In stone
Somewhere
But hardly will I share
What they made me
We aren't as open as they think
We are closed books
The writer waits for me
Life is better when
Those voices that you keep
Sing in harmony
Together, company
And if you want to be like them
Look like the innocent flower,
but be the serpent underneath
You whore,
Georgia
You were everything that I could eat
But you never nourished me
I ing starved
I ing starved
I crashed my car
I ing starved
You ing coward
Now I weep
For others will say the same of me
Copyright © Jonathan Smith | Year Posted 2019
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