Red shapes from the past
That earned me a chiller
A name for the grave
A name called "Killer"
Red shapes on my bat
From the softball came
six years ago
That game me fame
Red shapes in my eyes
When reality broke
I cried for the dead
Tears I couldn't cope
Red shapes on the grass
Became a turning point
Like an arm outside
Torn from the joint
YOU ARE READING
Night In The Woods: Possum Springs Poetry
PoetryA few poems centered around Night in the Woods. THIS IS SPOILER HEAVY, SO IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED THE GAME, PLAY IT NOW. but if you just don't care and want to know what the fuss is about, that's fine.
