regrets
Thursday, March 31st, 2011A corpse in a copse decomposing
Stares blankly at canopied sky.
A corpse in a copse decomposing
Has worms crawling into its thigh.
A corpse in a copse decomposing
Has no need for cunning or fear.
A corpse in a copse decomposing
Wonders “God, why the hell am I here?”




