We were at the cemetery carrying a coffin to bury when dark clouds came overhead and rain came down above the dead there in the cemetery we got soaking wet and when a strong wind came we began to fret when a strong gust hit us we fell down and the coffin fell to the ground poor Fred popped out and began to shout: "rain, I hate bloody rain and wind is a pain" then he crawled back inside and shut the lid from the rain and wind storm he hid the rain kept falling and the wind kept blowing we took shelter at the mortuary and poor Fred they never did bury.
I've been writing since 1984.
I write poems, stories, lyrics & string haikus in a variety of genres: Horror, Nature, Inspirational, Comedy, Sexual, etc... Variety is what you will find here.
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