A hole in the ground
and a rock that is sound.
A body that is gone,
a name that will live on.
A life that meets its end
but in death, it really begins.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry.
PoetryPoem all written by Paintingtheworldgray, they are older and some are newer. Don't read unless you like depressing poetry. The cover is not real blood, I made it with Fruit Punch Kool-Aid, so no worries yeah?
