Here is a quick poem with the same generator. This one is not as bad.
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Whose vampire is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite sad though.
It really is a tale of woe,
I watch her frown. I cry hello.
She gives her vampire a shake,
And sobs until the tears make.
The only other sound's the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.
The vampire is frightening, vicious and deep,
But she has promises to keep,
Until then she shall not sleep.
She lies in bed with ducts that weep.
She rises from her bitter bed,
With thoughts of sadness in her head,
She idolises being dead.
Facing the day with never ending dread.
YOU ARE READING
My Poem Book
PoesiaA bunch of poems that I felt like posting. Some sad and some will be happy. Just take it word per word as I wrote them. This story will not be complete in any way until I think that there are enough inside for me to make a second book. Until then ha...
