April poetry 1 – Shoes to fill

Shoes to fill

Dead the year I was born
Nineteen eighty eight
Dead at twenty-seven
I’m that age today
But I’m not here nor there
So I got nothing to fear

Dead from his heart saying
“That’s too much heroin”
I’ve never tried heroin I’m scared of needles
Dead from an old addiction
I don’t battle mine I
Enjoy them I enjoy
Them I enjoy them I
Enjoy until.

Dead while very famous
My Twitter follower count is one hundred and sixty four

Dead while beautiful dead while being a crown
I have no discernible shape
But I am also pleasing to the eye
He was all bones bones Gray’s Anatomy cotton
My gibberish is making me shudder

His shoes are big to fill
With feet that are too small too soft too pink too pale
His shoes are big to fill
And hard to find given that
His aftermath is copyrighted

My gibberish is making me shudder.

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