Bed Of Death Poem by SAMPAGUITA WRITES
Bed Of Death
BED OF DEATH
You will never wanted to sleep in this four sides room,
Roof are made of glass with painted white woods.
Soft bed but narrow,
Onces you sleep in there
You wouldn't see tommorow.
Behind those glass is sorrow,
after this unforgettable moment no one will see you,
Alone in the cold dark room,
And that is your last home.
Word by: Sampaguita Writes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
8/29/2026 2:52:11 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
