Poem -

Blasfiem

author
Spike Graves

Walking through the golden leaves all is scilent all but the fresh crunching under my tired feet as I swirl into church blasfeming I say my vowls just knowing their not for me expecting a conker to swirl and fall onto me as if to stone me to death

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Views: 
305
Rating:
Total votes: 0
Tags: 
Realisation Realism Religion Religious Respect
Poetry Genre: 
Freestyle
Topic: 
The Afterlife
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