Why or why not? Is this an alright poem?

Gypsy Lady

Your fortune- She’ll predict Wickedness- Her eyes depict Tarot cards- Spread out in view What lies ahead- Will be revealed to you

Gaze into the ball of crystal To you- You future it’ll show Mind burning hot, like a fired pistol You’ve got to pay the price to know

A grin she grins- It’s the grin of fate Your palm in hers- A sickness it creates Upon your flesh- Her fingertips dance Your thought process- In a trance

On your mind- She’s played a trick Darkness casts over you- Whole Of the wits- She’s oddly quick Through you- She eyes your soul

Blood spills out, as the wound flows Night creeps in- Causing air to go cold Shovel in hand- She’s at it again Digging up the earth to plant you in

On the land- Unmarked graves She wanders about- Inner demons rave Into creepy shapes- Aged trees contort Of your life- You fell short

There she goes, dress caught in the breeze Attempting to soothe her mental disease

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