Alot of randomness

13,990 poems read


A must!
In what?
We Trust!
I have downright got it!
Yes! Please! Listen! Hush!
It grabs use slowly,
Lung by lung
And chokes us as if we have been hung
Dust, a word in which death feels a lust
Can kill our souls and favor guts!
Dust a must!
In dust we trust!
Synonym to death
Hearts turned to crust!