In two shakes of a dog’s tail
The weather changes, so they say
With raindrops that are rubied
Rolling from bunch of zombies
Staggering down in the street
Possessing all that they meet
Conspiracies all sprung up
As a norm we all adopt.
Decent ones in the city
Soon became filthy dirty
Devils and trolls we hired
Became woods in our fire
The blacks and whites not like us
We destroy with sticks and rods
When the infants starts to creep
We shoot them right from our hips
Yet with our scary wild eyes
We still hunt the tranquil ice
And not until we change our views
The zombies are all but good.
e-Paper Poetry of Vinx 
Wow! this is vivid, a little creepy and yet poignant. Beautifully sculpted.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you Mason
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is certainly dark yet something about it is really commendable. I love the almost satirical tone of the finale. The picture is deep too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I appreciate you. Thank you.
LikeLike