Crime Scene Therapy
There I was,
Horned out like a crooked starch in the dark,
Praying my way to the middle room.
Turn left right up the back of the front stairs,
and that’s when I knew things would never be the same.
Down the hallway towards the stink.
Reality freezes...............
ZERO O'CLOCK ZERO O'CLOCK ZERO O'CLOCK
ZERO O'CLOCK ZERO O'CLOCK ZERO O'CLOCK
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.