tagNon-Erotic PoetryDeath Comes To Dinner

Death Comes To Dinner


first cut,
innocence torn
the day the child died
and death had a face.
I met that face again
in each grandparent’s shadow.
Lest I forget
its hollow horror and swift blade,
death comes to dinner
on lonely nights-
for death is a smug,
but willing companion.

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byLadynStFreknBed© 0 comments/ 4081 views/ 0 favorites

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