Shallow Graves

Covered in a loose blanket of dirt and rocks
Not long since you found yourself broke off
Abandoned and alone on the streets
But to me, all I see is meat
Flesh covered in fear and cheap ink
Afraid, your nerves are on the brink
Sweetness, I know you have what I need
The papers, they all tell stories of me

Shallow Graves!
I am Shallow Graves!

I have strangled and I have ripped
Who am I? I’ll give you a tip
I have feasted and I have clowned
I know just how to keep your down
A son of Sam, I’m in your flesh
Suffering my only wish
The stark weather on the highway
Come to me, don’t waste the day

Shallow Graves!
I am Shallow Graves!

I see the way you look at me
Stranger in the night
Your scent intoxicates me
I’m here for you
When we’re done you’ll know my name
You will scream…

Shallow Graves!
It’s Shallow Graves!

Reviews

[...]

At beginning of a poem I was thought it's about that freak Ian Brady. After I realize it's more deeper then shallow graves of moors. Nice metaphor of human reflection. Are we not time to time shallow grave for our self. You dig very deep Graves for our shallow minds. Well done and don't stop digging .

[Chris Shaw]

Flows well, there is rhyme and the stanzas are interspersed with repetition which adds emphasis. Good write. Very dark imagery.

Chris

[Renée]

Though I will remember “Shallow graves” I have no time to shout “ it’s shallow graves” for I need all my breath to run away...😊 dark, with many layers.