Zombies

Comparing zombies to my friends.

I heard it broke out in the east

and it made it's way to the city.

Wasn't to long before it came to this old town.

Wasn't to long till it became run down.

Family's leave to safety and seek protection from police

But they don't even notice they brought the infection to the streets

(and the police won't win.)

Doctors call it disease, I call it death.

They took all of my friends, till I had none left.

I thought at least a couple would've survived

but those two showed me their wounds last week.

I haven't seen them since, so I suppose they died

or at least lost their lives, since dying has ceased.

Once you're exposed, you're done.

Your friends, too, will fall one-by-one.

Mine never looked so dead in their lives.

I can't understand how you can be so pale and still not die. (Not that you're even alive)

You're still walking.

You're all still talking.

Well, talking to eachother, I guess,

if talking is that incessant, mess of sentences.

You stumble around the world that surrounds you, just stumbling

mumbling a tone or two, collecting in groups to do what you always do,

be zombies.

I have wondered what it's like to feel truly lifeless within,

but I refuse to let this "disease", or whatever it is, win.

A disease, an illness doesn't make you rip and tear through the skin

and my friend's infected themselves, they never "caught" heroin.