I write for fun, read for joy and exist for happiness.
My heart races, it’s always racing. Like a high powered, turbo fuelled sports car or a chaotic sports day – Racing. My chest thuds like an axe cutting into a motherly oak, nature sighs and wishes
By Harvey McKenzie6 years ago in Poets
I am death Death because I feel dead inside, A fallen angel, blackened in a hellish dust And left to rot like a corpse.