Laying here
Empty of though, empty of reason
Just waiting for the change of season
Restless and impatient
Tossing in the confines of the box
Imprisoned,entombed, closed of from all that I know
Staring at the walls of the box, plain pine
No silk lined comfort
No pillow to rest my head upon
No flowers clutched in my hands
Not even a watch in which to keep time
Unsure of how much time has passed
One day bleeds into the next
And still I lay here
Empty of thought, empty of reason
Waiting forever waiting for the change of season
Rodents scurrying to and fro
While I lie here six foot below
I need no air in which to breathe
My blood long grown cold
My skin so fair and pale
Impatience grows, I start to claw
My nails digging in deep into the soft pine box
Long ago it started to rot, from the bottom to the top
Someone , someone out there must know
Someone , someone out there must remember
Remember who I was, who I am, that I am laying here buried beneath the land
My head detached, stake plunged through my cold dead heart
All I can do now is lie here listening to the rodents fart
As my impatience grows, laying here
Empty of thought , empty of reason
Waiting forever waiting for the change of season

Great Read.

Someone does remember

Someone will always remember.

good write girl