Grandmother, Grandmother by Anton Summers

Living in a house with emotions and feelings,Trying to get over the depressing appeals,Seeing your grandmother present multiple catastrophes in the rage of anxiety.

 The color of her skin is like dirty tan paint, the roughness of her flesh presents the scales of a poisonous snake.

 Her eyes are dim like the windows of a house, her strength is like quicksand and soft soil which melts to the ground.

 Her jaw is like the heaviness of a brick which gives her pain when she speaks, her life is at its fine end like a decaying roof of an ancient house of the old times, when you touch it, it falls like dust to the ground.

 When it’s over she will meet her creator and face the reality that she will live in a place much worse, hell to be exact, it will eat her like a lion eats its prey, she will never see the outside of the those gates unless she gets saved before that day.

 What is your life is it like my grandmother’s and like a deserted house or is it much more, like a new house that was just built.

What are you?

What are you?

What are you?




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