This life, my life, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
I am cursed, not gifted. So many people mistake this.
Come in, I can read your palm, your future, your destiny.
Please, take my small trinket, it will protect you from the fate I see is inevitable.
Have a nice day, you are already doomed.
The sad part is, I don’t remember the last good news I gave. It may have been years, the days blend together now. After this last couple, everything seemed a little more clear.
I am the grim reaper.
Or am I? Don’t I just sit in a tent and tell people their fate?
Is this their fate before they come in?
Do I give them death?
I can’t stop, this is all I know. Just hope you don’t ask me your future if we ever cross paths.