HarthPoetry

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Lights

You turned on the lights,

When you got home.

Found me lying in bed,

Undressed and unclothed.

 

The music was playing,

And the candles were lit.

Motionless I lay,

Waiting to be fed.

 

You took my pulse,

And felt my disease.

You saw me dead,

You fell to your knees

 

© 2007 David Greg Harth

07.06.28.17:44:42@299BwayNYC

2003-2007