undead

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
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Submitted: October 04, 2008

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Submitted: October 04, 2008

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the roar of this room

this is my white tomb

vanilla flavored death

the walls are growing meth

blue neon headstone

feeding boys that moan

my deteriorating body

eyeballs that are rotting

the darker one is near

the undead feeling is here

shall i escape this place?

or fester in this human waste?


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