Town Of The Dead Poem by joshua madiba
Town Of The Dead
Midnight clocks rings down the well.
That the town square is left askew.
Slains moving nanoic the ground.
Town of the dead living nold.
Ruins and molds touch to the sky.
That Tickle and Dickle lie on the moon.
That all the senile in the tombs.
Craws up and lift in the space.
Midnight fools in the town of the dead.
Friday, August 30, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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2/25/2026 8:14:39 AM # 1.0.0
