Dark curly hair in a window
creepy crustacians on the floor
she must be my widow
they came out of my bedroom door
Myself, dead, on the porch
she begged the villains to cease
they lit me like a torch
left my wife alone to freeze
Floating past the fridge
of all the fine foods we bought
looking over the ridge
of the deep happiness we sought
Golden strokes of sunlight
wake me up from a dream
My mind has to fight
Things aren't always what they seem
-Random Ralph
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