Run your mouth however you like,
still can't change a thing.
When I'm gone,
you might as well get yourself some bling.
Walk down the aisle,
show some waterworks display.
Remember to leave a message,
after your play.
Hang it on display,
like how I hung,
waiting for people to realise,
how they treated me like dung.
Bring some flowers to my altar,
Lycoris, preferably.
Some white chrysanthemum or lily,
otherwise be labled unpleasantly.
"Blessed be the man that spares these stones,
And cursed be he that moves my bones."
The Bard's rhyme serves as a warning,
just as this which is forthcoming.
YOU ARE READING
The lone window
PoetryPoetry, possibly. . Feelings seem to come out in words, words can cut and scar, scars can help to make one become better. It is either you climb up or you fall. I chose to fall.
