The skeletons in my closet,
are shaking in their bones.
Funny how their void of life,
yet still know when I'm home.
I hear the ankles knocking,
I hear their fingers snap.
I hear the bones so loudly pop,
in the low parts of their backs.
Maybe they want others,
maybe their alone.
Or maybe that inside my closet,
theres just to many bones...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
because they know your the best... lol. this is good I really like it. very good job. Becca