TIGHT
- Dark Poets Club
- Nov 5
- 1 min read
By JF Shaw
In hours dark, when sleep would flee,
I chose the end awaiting me.
If only I'd known, before the stamp,
How cramped the urn, how cold and damp.
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By JF Shaw
In hours dark, when sleep would flee,
I chose the end awaiting me.
If only I'd known, before the stamp,
How cramped the urn, how cold and damp.