Don't look up
You will see the source of the red
Don't look up
You will see your lover dead
Don't look up
Run faster, flee the scene
Don't look up
Scrub your hands til they are clean
Hide the image from your mind
Of the one that once was kind
You were doing fine until you slipped
Now all you hear is the blood falling drip, drip, dripA/N:Hello. Please give me either titles or ideas for a poem. I'm running out of inspiration
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Forest of Stanzas
PoetryA collection of poems. Some are dark, some don't make sense, all are mine. Feel free to comment a title or prompt and I'll write one for you.