Death's Razor Blade Poem by Shaun Cronick
Death's Razor Blade
So warm and inviting,
Her bath prepared.
She slowly slips in,
Not feeling scared.
Her worries in life,
Of money and men.
Soon to be lost,
Never troubled again.
She reaches out,
Grasps it unafraid.
Her wrists welcoming,
Death's razor blade...
Saturday, April 25, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: horror
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8/3/2025 2:50:55 PM # 1.0.0
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