Death by Zombie
Risen from the dark of death-
Must deserve to live agin.
Limp and lumber,
Risen from eternal slumber.
Just a shell of lifeless drone,
Just a bag of flesh and bone.
An endless taste for human flesh-
their rags and bloody limbs a mess.
Out to get us, we know for sure-
We wait for them- they're at the door!
Our face is the image of fear-
A logical path our mind tries to steer.
We reach for all grenades and swords,
The mob raises their two by fours.
The battle begins as blows are thrown-
Out comes some blood and broken bones.
The nearest zombie goes for you-
His hand covered in much green goo.
The zombie means to eat your brains-
You know he will inflict much pain.
He raises his mighty two by four,
Out of your head much blood pours.
Of all time you begin to lose track,
And then comes that blissful...peaceful...black.
-Kerrie
YOU ARE READING
Meaningless Little Book of Poems
PoetryThis is a boom of poems that I have written recently. They are my babies. If they suck, please tell me so - politely! If ya love them, please tell me as well! A lot of these feelings that I wrote about are true...
