Saturday, December 28, 2013

The Pulse

Rummaging through the undercarriage
I come upon a rifle with three bullets left
How I use them now comes down to fear
I fear the horrible outcome of my family
Uncle Pete and Aunt Rose may be dead
Luckily, my wife has taken the children
I pray that they made it to Canada safely
I cannot take another casualty after tonight
My group broke apart and scattered
I am only with three strangers and their dog
We met outside of Williamsburg two nights ago
Our food is scarce and sickness is starting to set in
These three bullets could end our lives right here
I am not sure how much longer I can journey
The government said this was temporary
Until you see your neighbors peering
Aching, oozing, disembodied, wanting
To eat you and anything with a pulse

I am not sure where the inspiration came from on this poem. I was probably thinking about zombies.

I hope you enjoy!

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