Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Poem 1

When you're bored at summer camp, what else are you supposed to do them write poetry?

In the end, at the gate
Realize your waited fate
For deep inside I've sealed your doom
In the confines of a dusty room.
Body perish, soul does not
And all thy flesh shall slowly rot
And on your body, warm and hot
Shall I feast
For I am the beast.

Who says poems don't need to rhyme? Poems that don't rhyme stink.
This post is boring without a picture, so if someone has a fitting image (sunshine, rainbows, lolly pops, etc.) send it/them to me and I'll put it/them up.

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