Vasti Labuschagne


Dead - Poem by Vasti Labuschagne

Frost is warm
flowers bleed
drain the venom from a seed

Awake the dead
there in my head
make a cene
its time to scream

The dead are walking
there also talking
can't shut them up
so mutch in my cup

Laying on my bed
with the dead still in my head
I drink the pills
they gave me thrills

In my sleep i pass away
tomorrow ill seeno time nor day.


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Poem Submitted: Friday, October 28, 2011

Poem Edited: Saturday, October 29, 2011


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