Tired To Grave Poem by Ro Price

Tired To Grave



Lashes laid to rest
On your cheeks
A vast black canvas
Under those dimes
The colours
Are they still beautiful?
Or is it just the dark blankness
You see.
The graves dug
Under those lashes
Why the blues shine in them?
Don't they want to free flow anymore
Why does the grim reaper sit beside you?
Laughing and smiling looking at you
Why don't those lashes rise no more

Thursday, November 1, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: sad
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