Nancy asks…My new poem -- is it crap?I personally kinda like it. It's miles from my best but I like it.
Red wine,
Crystal glasses,
Black candles.
A pale,
Ghostly looking family
Seated along the heavy,
Dark wooden table.
Skulls looking down,
Timid eyes looking up.
Red eyes,
black hair,
White skin.
Black clothes,
Covered in bones;
Skulls and crosses.
Fire burning with force
In the old brick fireplace.
Chills traveling up
Thin spines.
Black wooden floors,
Of the Victorian
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