ashes to ashes
bones to dust
kick over the bucket
it starts to rust
your fate at hand
your final stand
hold my hand
walk with me
then you'll see
the true me
don't try to flee
stay with me
as the bucket starts to rust
bones will turn into dust
ashes into ashes
YOU ARE READING
Sick and twisted poems
PoetryMy Poem book. I created EVERY POEM IN HERE so do not steal them. Copywright is not allowed, if you take them without permission I will charge you. My poems mean things to me please do not be an ass. I repeat again Copywright is not allowed and I wil...
