Hii, I wanna share this poem called another text with whoever wants to view this! It's called "Another Text" plz let me kno what u think of it. I'm open to all criticism and comments.
The flies haven't forgotten,
Found once I was rotten.
Nobody is there,
But they care.
Revealing more inside, than I could,
Like having tetanus, a knife would.
Incisions they make,
Internals they rake.
Death was beneficial,
Gives what was wishful.
Need not hurt,
I'm but a stained shirt.
Not washed, nor thrown,
Left away from the hamper, thy throne.
I am on the ground,
I am not a mound.
Red fields they graze,
All the same taste.
Soaring and crawling,
Appreciation is a craze.
Generations found,
Within temporary ground.
Swell and implode,
That was the loathe.
I cannot arise,
I cannot love flies.
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