Post mortem slaughterhouse

A dark twisted poem

Alone in the dark lab,          

Lying on a cold stone slab,

Being cut and stabbed,

Being prodded and jabbed,

Having organs removed,

And being disproved,

Getting judgmental looks,

And being hung by hooks,

Left to dry,

In the open sky,

Blood drips and drops,

Being carved and served as chops,

A slaughterhouse post mortem,

Pushed aside like an unwanted item.

Reviews

[Angels heart]

this is great, i love it. keep on doing what cha doing because it is working out, at least to me it is ;)