Christopher Kirchner

A White-Washed Tomb

Bitterness and anger- I can't live like this-
Spitting words at each other, barbs that don't miss.
Hateful venom spewed out on white walls, now stained
With dark rolling rivers that bleed through new paint

And what is that stench? The smell makes me wretch!
Death and putrescence, it's all that is left
Of our dreams and our laughter- all but forgotten-
Wrenched from our souls, now decaying and rotten.

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