All the slow walking,
In a group stalking.
The gun glowed white hot,
As we start to shoot.
One by one they start to fall,
At the other side of the hall.
They come closer every second,
They all came to make us rot.
The more they shoot,
The more they come.
The noise from the gun,
Attracts them out from hiding.
The people go in there cars,
And started riding.
To get farther and farther away.
YOU ARE READING
Just The Same Ol Thoughts
PoésiePoems that I wrote on my spare time and thinking of adding short story's that might go along with them.
