Shallow Grave

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's all in the tittle. A murder most horried

Submitted: February 09, 2007

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Submitted: February 09, 2007

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She calls to me

As I try to move on with my life

A tangled mirror image in my head

No truth in this dismal reality

 

Yet she calls to me again

Her voice echoing in this head

The guilt begins again about the things I've done

 

The blood stains still fresh to me on these hands

Tears roll down my checks

I taste the salt in my dry mouth

 

She still calls to me

As I pick up the blooded shovel

Was there still time to save myself?

 

No it is to late

I sweetly tell myself as I move the soil

Over and over

Until the hole is full

 

A shallow grave I just made

With my love still alive inside

So continue to call to me

 

Waste the little air you have left

For you deserve no better end

For being such a cold bitch

 

Go back to hell were you belong

I murdered you and the realise was so sweet

You no longer have the control

I took it back with this dire act


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