Upon the grass,
The worm did glow,
Upon the glass,
A silent moan.
A woman in red,
A bucket of dirt,
Sat beside,
A man, a flirt.
They drank, that jar,
That dirt,
Together they sank,
To earth, a joke.
Category: Writing
Forlorne
In the woods,
that dark and dreadful place,
it remained.
Quiet, the wind died down
and the tries stood still.
Yet, that thing remained behind
alone in the dark.
