Dead Man.

He opened his coffin and folded the side down, swung his legs over.

Gathered his strength
and pushed off heavily, rising unsteadily to his feet.

          "Dead man walking"

He catcalled,
giggling to himself.

          "That never gets old"

He couldn't sleep,
a family of worms had taken residence in his skull,
what a racket they were making.

So he went walking,
wind whipping his ragged coat tails
and straining against his top hat but a gaunt sallow hand kept it steady.

Through the small town,
still sleepy in the early morning.
Darkness was starting to fade when he settled down on a park bench.

The sun was starting to peek
out above the trees, warmth was spreading
and the world was starting to move with increasing speed.

          "I wasn't expecting company, least that of the living dead."

He started with surprise,
a lady sat to his right with a wry smile on her face.

Plump lips curling.
He nodded.
And said something but it was lost in the wind.

          "What did you say?"

asked the lady politely.

          "I said, a sunrise as beautiful as this really tugs at the heartstrings."

Author's Note

This was written by Ben Lingemann.
Please do not plagiarize, All Rights Reserved.
Authors note - Tugs on something, who says dead men can't rise?