Luke

This poem is sorta silly to me cause I was just making up random poem here...I made this poem a while ago...But still I like it.

The air is cold,

 

I can mold,

 

A face I sense,

 

His name is Luke and he is my nemesis.

 

His hair is fair.

 

His face flaw-less.

 

The shape of his body ok.

 

His knife pointless.

 

His heart no joy,

 

His lips coy back in smile.

 

While I will turn around and bid you A-do.

 

Now don't turn around and say "Hey!"

 

Or your life will fade away.

 

And in the darkness you will stay, forever now a day.

 

The air is so cold I can mold.

 

A face I sense his name is luke and he is my nemesis.

 

He sucks the life out of you and once again I bid A-do.

Author's Note

Review however you please.