08-01-2013, 10:52 PM
Edit two
He has never tasted death,
but he will on his first day.
He is already catching his breath.
Soon he will join the fray.
He enters the morgue for the first time,
not knowing what horrors he will see.
Will he be covered in slime?
Take your time and rest on the tree.
The tree of those who have passed.
Rest my child, for the night will be over soon
He is already hoping this day will be his last,
for he doesn't want to be another goon.
He knows the job description,
Cut up bodies, learn what the killing blow was.
What is the encryption?
Well lets get to it and find the cause.
The nurses give him no comfort,
because he is already facing moral dilemmas
His face is changing color
His head is growing an antenna
This antenna should pick up a signal
Help! I cant do this!
In this room he will find no equal.
They do this like someone who can do the splits
His first body,
he's is tasting deaths sweet stagnant air.
The tools he is using are not shoddy.
Is this really fair?
His first body is a young man.
Looks no more than twenty years old.
He wishes he was on the beach's sand,
instead of joining the fold.
He pauses and has a feeling of conscience.
He cant go through with it.
Something doesn't make sense.
He asks if he can take a break from the bit.
He slips out of the morgue,
takes his keys out of his pocket,
and runs away from the smorgasbord
A smorgasbord of death without his blanket.
Edit one
He enters the morgue for the first time,
not knowing what horrors he will see.
He looks for someone to mime,
Someone to be.
He knows the job description,
Cut up bodies, learn what the killing blow was.
What is the encryption?
Well lets get to it, lets find the cause.
His first body.
He's is tasting deaths sweet stagnant air.
The tools he is using are not shoddy,
Is this really fair?
His first candidate,
A young man of 20.
If only he knew why he messes with blood coagulate
Why are there so many?
He pauses and has a sense of conscience.
He cant go through with it.
Something doesn't make sense.
He goes home and has a fit.
He enters the morgue for the first time,
not knowing what horrors he will see.
He looks for something to mime,
Something to be.
He knows the job description,
Cut up bodies, learn what the killing blow was.
What is the encryption?
Well lets get to it, lets break out the saws.
His first body.
He's never tasted deaths sweet stagnant air.
The tools he uses are not shoddy,
Is this really fair?
His first candidate,
A young man of 20.
If only he knew why he messes with blood coagulate
Something doesn't seem right.
He pauses and has a sense of conscience.
He cant go through with it.
Something doesn't make sense.
He walks out and goes home to have a fit.
this is my first post on the mild critique board. Please honest feedback. I don't know If I'm ready for this level of poetry. Feel free to move It to the novice forum if you see fit
He has never tasted death,
but he will on his first day.
He is already catching his breath.
Soon he will join the fray.
He enters the morgue for the first time,
not knowing what horrors he will see.
Will he be covered in slime?
Take your time and rest on the tree.
The tree of those who have passed.
Rest my child, for the night will be over soon
He is already hoping this day will be his last,
for he doesn't want to be another goon.
He knows the job description,
Cut up bodies, learn what the killing blow was.
What is the encryption?
Well lets get to it and find the cause.
The nurses give him no comfort,
because he is already facing moral dilemmas
His face is changing color
His head is growing an antenna
This antenna should pick up a signal
Help! I cant do this!
In this room he will find no equal.
They do this like someone who can do the splits
His first body,
he's is tasting deaths sweet stagnant air.
The tools he is using are not shoddy.
Is this really fair?
His first body is a young man.
Looks no more than twenty years old.
He wishes he was on the beach's sand,
instead of joining the fold.
He pauses and has a feeling of conscience.
He cant go through with it.
Something doesn't make sense.
He asks if he can take a break from the bit.
He slips out of the morgue,
takes his keys out of his pocket,
and runs away from the smorgasbord
A smorgasbord of death without his blanket.
Edit one
He enters the morgue for the first time,
not knowing what horrors he will see.
He looks for someone to mime,
Someone to be.
He knows the job description,
Cut up bodies, learn what the killing blow was.
What is the encryption?
Well lets get to it, lets find the cause.
His first body.
He's is tasting deaths sweet stagnant air.
The tools he is using are not shoddy,
Is this really fair?
His first candidate,
A young man of 20.
If only he knew why he messes with blood coagulate
Why are there so many?
He pauses and has a sense of conscience.
He cant go through with it.
Something doesn't make sense.
He goes home and has a fit.
He enters the morgue for the first time,
not knowing what horrors he will see.
He looks for something to mime,
Something to be.
He knows the job description,
Cut up bodies, learn what the killing blow was.
What is the encryption?
Well lets get to it, lets break out the saws.
His first body.
He's never tasted deaths sweet stagnant air.
The tools he uses are not shoddy,
Is this really fair?
His first candidate,
A young man of 20.
If only he knew why he messes with blood coagulate
Something doesn't seem right.
He pauses and has a sense of conscience.
He cant go through with it.
Something doesn't make sense.
He walks out and goes home to have a fit.
this is my first post on the mild critique board. Please honest feedback. I don't know If I'm ready for this level of poetry. Feel free to move It to the novice forum if you see fit