Last Poem

This is the last poem to be penned

Composed in syllables of eight

The final entry in our blog

Now shuttered by the hands of fate

This is the cherry on the top

The closing run of our sad play

Shakespearean as clever fools

With nothing really left to say

That destiny should find us here

To bleed like mad from every pore

The bitter last and dying nail

For talking twins who talk no more