February 1, 2015
Welcome to Death little children
The town that can’t afford to sleep.
‘Cause every waking hour is spent working.
Working for what you may ask.
Woking for food they’ll never eat.
Working for who, you ask.
Working for Me,
The Only One you’ll ever see.
Why are children working?
‘Cause child you are dead
And the dead work til the rest of My life.
Meaning Forever.
‘Cause child I’m immortal.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of an Every day Girl
PoetryThis will hold all/most of the poetry I've written from how I felt to what I see. Not every peom will be direct and understandable, some may have a deeper or shallower meaning, SO don't overthink the poems. Please Enjoy. Kiki
