Houston hasn't called in days.
I bet the comms tower is down.
From here I can't do anything anyway,
Except wait for a squawk to drown
Out the silence. Wasting away,
Our faces blank. No smile or frown.
.
Two more weeks till a scheduled supply.
Emergency stash is still currently dry.
Wish they'd bring drugs to try.
I drive a Mercedes, them a Bentley.
Never again will I wonder why
I hated them so gently.
.
Everyone is getting stressed.
It's hard when we can't talk to the ground.
Even when I'm getting dressed
I can't stop worrying about the sound.
When the button and I get depressed,
Not one peep from the other ends hounds
YOU ARE READING
The Fullest of Crypts is in the Open Air
PoesiaThe complete genocide of the human species in rhyming fashion. 1,558 words.