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August 25th, 2008 · No Comments

Death’s Door

By: Kimmer

The pain is unbearable

The headache is insane

I can’t stand the throbbing

Of my poor aching brain.

Cold air, warm air

Makes no difference to me

It causes the same rush

Of sheer agony!

That smell, those people

All waiting in misery

I am filled with nothing but

Dred, fear and anxiety.

Step through the door

I’d rather slit my wrist

For the evil devil-dog waits

Known as the Dentist.


Tags: Can ya call it poetry?

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