Death of a B*****dA Poem by *~Imperfectly Me~*
I hate snow... I think this explains just how much.
His blood is like scattered leaves
Strewn across the grass
Children trying to believe
His b*****d life will last
She stands over the body
Big round and dead
Her laugh is like Drusilla
As she rips off Frosty's head...
© 2009 *~Imperfectly Me~*
Shelved in 1 LibraryAdded on November 11, 2009
In the Shadows of Imagination, CO
About***~~***IF YOU WANT TO BE MY FRIEND PLEASE REVIEW SOMETHING OF MINE FIRST***~~*** I accept that i am imperfect... I am proud of it... It's in our imperfections that make us who we are... they.. more..
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