Life Undead

So people in a class of mine were supposed to write a poem about a naturally occurring thing.

I wrote something about someone with severe brain damage.

You came so close to human, but that wasn’t quite the score

Instead what ended up happening—you died before you were born

And they were going to hold a banquet, such a morning parade

The banquet’s not getting eaten, but they hurled you flowers anyway

And it seems like such a mockery when you can’t even know their taste

And it seems like such great drudgery to…remember your face

And the pain, the pain, it’s so great because it’s fate

And even once, just once, you want to know how everything tastes

You want to know what it’s like to notice things

But the world, it melted all the things

Seen out of things once beautiful

Begin life again (they say…)

Because for them it’s easy!

And they’re still writing poems, in your honor

And they’re still sending cards, sending flowers

Gee, it’d be nice. If you knew how to smell’er

But you can’t, cause you’re the walking dead

The sun would be so great, if you could see it

This chorus should make you feel bad, but you won’t hear it

It’s just more noise…in the machine, that helps you breathe

Whatever breathing really means, down here

The End

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