Walking Dead

You see the shell, it appears intact
but deep inside the demons  attack
chewing, gnashing, flailing about
no one happy will ever get out.
Stomping on good thoughts, smashing your pride
You have become nothing, have nowhere to hide
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

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April 21, 2013 at 10:26 PM
i like this. dx
A   Avatar
April 21, 2013 at 9:21 PM
Joy, i agree with you, we already are the walking dead. enjoyed the verse... xox~ Linda
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