Feast For The Rats Poem by Matt Burgett

The blood drips down
Off the edge of my heart
An engraving of the end
Or perhaps just worthless art

I work alone in the shadows
Where no-one else can see
I work alone in the shadows
Where only I can bleed

Solitude's what I crave
For what reason I don't know
One of these days
I'm just gonna get up and go

But eventually
As I must always do
I must emerge from the dark
To conversate with you

Or I will die like that
Without the pain to live
Something that I need
Is something I can't give

Like an overdose in the alleyway
A gruesome sight I'd be
Were no-one would find me
Were all the rats could feed

A feast they would have
On a lost body just for them
They would have it all striped clean
Before you could count to ten