Messanger Poem by Mathew Sutter

I walked up to the door,
It was rotting and old.

When I knocked on it,
It seemed it would fly right off.

I took a deep breath,
As I heard footsteps coming to the door.
I wasn't ready for this,
I could tell,
but I had to do this.

The aging door,
Slowly opened and creaked with a squeel as it did.
An older woman came out of this house.
Bags under her eyes,
And her eyes red as an apple.
Her cloths were raged and she was as thin as bone.

She looked at me with fear and curiousity.
I took in a sharp breath,
And the message came out.
Slow, like silk, but as hurtful as a swarm of bees.
She turn rigid and her eyes became blank.
Her breathing stopped and then,
She collapsed,
Onto the wooden floor.
Never to awaken to hear this message ever again.