YOU ARE READING First Class Poetry We're all dead anyways. ~Poetry a 286 7 3 by AnneNicole74 by AnneNicole74 Follow Share Post to Your Profile Share via Email Report Story Send Send to Friend Share Post to Your Profile Share via Email Report Story Falling through the sockets of your dead-ended skull, Whips and chains and piercings of arbitrary massacre. Crying lightening, blood diluting, skin singed in hate-- Drowning, the cachaemic mud cleans off your corrupt fate.