Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Deserted Cemeteries Of The Heart
I was in my white room
Sitting on top of the world
Where there are no cares to implore
Never worried about if there was more
Touching monsters that are made to laugh
Tasting colors, smelling every sound
Bite the dog of reality's hound
All this in a way, without any
Hell has come to claim it's fair game
In the deserted cemeteries of the heart
poem
by
Midnights Voice
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black