Marcus Dawson


Reaper - Poem by Marcus Dawson

With a man laying in bed.
It comes to the door.
It gently does tap
One two three four

The man awakes.
To be dissapointed.
No friends for him
Have been appointed.

He gets out of bed.
And nears the door
He stands on the door step.
The cold, stoney floor.

Then from the mist.
A horrible snigger.
Then infront of him
A shadowy figure.

The figure raised his blade.
As he sneared.
Then the man and the reaper
Dissappeared

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, November 28, 2004



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