deepundergroundpoetry.com
The dead that grin
I am sitting on a bench
At twilight, the darkest hour
And staring into the eyes
Of the dead that grin
Across the street,
They limp to me, like zombies
I hear their whispers, and prayers, their wishes.
And I tell them what I can.
They drag themselves back to their
Home in the earth.
And I rise to head towards home
After my nightly meeting, with the dead that grin.
At twilight, the darkest hour
And staring into the eyes
Of the dead that grin
Across the street,
They limp to me, like zombies
I hear their whispers, and prayers, their wishes.
And I tell them what I can.
They drag themselves back to their
Home in the earth.
And I rise to head towards home
After my nightly meeting, with the dead that grin.
Published 24th Jul 2012
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comments 6
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The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
24th Jul 2012 9:09am
Cool write, nice read..Peace, Miki
24th Jul 2012 10:11am
24th Jul 2012 4:51pm
24th Jul 2012 5:34pm
24th Jul 2012 7:07pm
Good poem, you need to capitalize an I, you don't have too but my OCD says you should. Lol I like your work
24th Jul 2012 7:37pm
