Burried in water from head to her knees.
She'd fallen in upside,
Turned down with such ease.No kicking ensued, just sinking beneath
As if she had wanted, her life to bequeath.Little black shoes, peek just above surface,
Yet 'neath the still water, of her there is no trace.Look into the depths, of filth and of murk.
You shan't find her peeking, though under she lurk.She desired of the quiet, sweet slumber of which
The water had offered, so in it she slipped.Though as she lie rotting in sweet softened sleep,
Her feet may get cold, protruding from deep.So do her a favor, if see her you do,
Please, push them both under
So sleep may ensue.
YOU ARE READING
Little Sleeper
PoetryA Poem About A Dead Girl Trying To Sleep In a Lake. Urban legend-esque.