Autopsy
19 April, 2005
Author: Seizure
You see I work in this morgue and it's always dark and cold
And they bring in many bodies, I can't say that it grows old
Little kids, old people, sh*t it doesn't matter much
They're all turning purple and feel the same to touch
Then on one rainy day they brought in a body
Blood under his nails and his clothes were all shoddy
I peeled back the fabric and I made an incision
And I had to be so careful to do it with precision
I cracked open the ribs and peeled that sh*t back
Every rib that broke made a deafening crack
Just then the heart kicked on and started to beat
I watched the blood flow, ever so discrete
His lungs started to flow and his eyes rolled to the front
Then he sat up on my table and made a little grunt
He knocked me to the floor then he knocked over my tray
If I believed in God, this is when I'd pray
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Comments on this poem/writing:
Mike (82.35.244.198) -- Thursday, April 21 2005, 12:49 pm Don't know whether to laugh or to be scared.. Great effect. Mike. |
grey (69.22.91.221) -- Friday, July 8 2005, 08:38 am scary but i belive its really happened before |
Seizure (24.214.126.10) -- Thursday, September 1 2005, 06:15 am Guess I had a lot of dark writings lately... if you count four months ago as being recent... wow, it's been forever. |
Kami (4.240.36.15) -- Thursday, January 5 2006, 04:19 am this is insane. in a good way. you have a talent for writing. have ever thought about it being a career |
Colin (69.157.0.211) -- Sunday, April 12 2009, 03:31 am An evocative and cinematic read! And I'm proud that I brought this poem back all the way from 2005! Horror fans will rejoice! |
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