The Grim Reaper and I aren't much different,
I harvest wheat with my scythe,
They harvest souls with theirs.
The Grim Reaper and I aren't much different,
They keep the dead, dead,
I keep the living alive.
The Grim Reaper and I aren't much different,
They transport souls,
I transport wheat.
The Grim Reaper and I aren't much different,
Only, the Grim Reaper does not kill,
But I do.
~Authors Note~
I woke up in the middle of night to write this, don't judge me to much.
YOU ARE READING
My Short Stories and Poems
RandomThis is just a place I'm going to dump my poems and short writing prompts, just so I can get some writing out of me.
