The SicknessA Poem by NicInspired by a family member's death
The people with the sickness
Walk around. Mind-less.
I try to convince the healthy to leave,
But they are too stubborn to believe.
I watch as it kills people like an infection,
Destroying town, section by section.
I tried to get somebody,
But they we’re busy counting money.
I try to get injected,
So I don’t get infected.
But no shot would do,
You’ll need your mind to make it through.
The black smoke,
Works its way to the young folk.
The only protection,
Is isolation.
© 2008 NicReviews
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10 Reviews Added on March 10, 2008 Author
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