The dead walk this town...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Words, words, words.

Submitted: December 09, 2006

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Submitted: December 09, 2006

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The dead walk this town,
kicking up dirt,
watching pebbles skid across
the street.
Ancient hands grope the
leering faces of
hyena children,
greedily feeding on the damned.
Miniature fortresses
watch the world through
curtained eyes.
Insanity infects the
wandering peasants,
scurrying like
starved rats late for
an appointment.
Half-eaten burgers,
wrapped in paper and ants,
lie in silent mockery
as skeletal wraiths
lay dying in
third world streets.
Greasy fingerprints surround us all,
hidden reminders of
the invisible people you'll
never meet.
I watch the scattered herds
moving to and fro.
Society is an epidemic.


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