What am I supposed to do with this prompt? Is he serious? A "horror" poem? What? Well anyway, I'll give it the old college try. My life is somewhat a horror story, so it shouldn't be so hard. Did I mention to any of you that horror is my least enjoyed genre of anything.. at all..?
Flower Pickers
Days are long like 5 o'clock shadows
The crease in my forehead is etched
By the end
The end comes like a surprise party
Each day at a new, novel time
Can I return the gift for time off?
That classical station only does so much
To smooth the wrinkles of distress
And calm my traffic congested mind
Home is my recharging station
Complete with thyme and tulips
Until today, that is
My face is contorted
When I see empty stems in the breeze
My sanctuary was decapitated
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