Waxing
Poetic...
"The Morning"
Erin Grimes
I woke up early one morning
The earth lay cool and still
When suddenly a tiny bird
Perched on my window sill.
He sang a song so lovely
So carefree and so gay,
That slowly all my troubles
Began to slip away.
He sang of far-off places
Of laughter and of fun
It seemed his very trilling
Brought up the brilliant sun.
I stirred beneath the covers
Crept slowly out of bed,
Then gently lowered the window
And crushed his fucking head.
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