Just as before the feet shuffle by quiet.
Not because of groggy waking.
Instead they search to fill their hunger.
Wallets full and stomachs decaying,
They have no use for the inside.
No desire to buy.
The dead do not drink coffee.
YOU ARE READING
The Fullest of Crypts is in the Open Air
PoetryThe complete genocide of the human species in rhyming fashion. 1,558 words.
