August 20, 2014

I wrote this shortly after finding the rotting corpse of a resident back in 2003, she was a very sweet old lady, and one of the reasons I will never venture back into Apartment management again..

Black and blue Rotting flesh What can I do to escape your grasp?

The wind carries your soul

My mind is your tomb

Liquid flesh dripping on the carpet

Liquid flesh to mark a passing

Old life Tired, eyes now gone

Maggots crawl as flies buzz

Filling my mind with memories

As tunnel vision comes

No longer here

Yet it seems you never left

Cries in the night call out your name as the wind slips through the trees

Cats sing to your passing

Forever do I grieve.