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I walk, I stumble,
With singularity of purpose.
I need food, I need brains,
And I need it badly

The walls around me
Gray, like brains
They make me hungry
I canít breath

My routine is set
I rise, I feed, I sleep
My neck is stiff, rigid
I serve only my purpose

My hunger grows
Nothing satisfies
Where once I had a soul
I now have a single purpose

I rise, I feed, I sleep
Today, tomorrow, and the next
The gray world consumes me
Time stands still

My eyes, now grey,
No longer reflect.
My wounds so deep,
Sleep now evades me

Still, I rise, I feed.
Day in to dayís end
Brains. Nothing less.
Mine has long since gone.


------
Chrispian H. Burks
Lit.Org Owner / Founder
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The following comments are for "I, Zombie"
by Chrispian

Cube Land
I wish I had a cube. That might sound crazy, but if you have ever been to my office then you'd understand. I'd *love* to be closed off from everyone!

( Posted by: prissy [Member] On: December 6, 2002 )

Braaaaains.
Crowe,

I like it! One question though, are speaking of actual zombies...ya know rise from the grave and suck out the brains. Or perhaps the guys that work in the office buildings down the street? Anyways, wonderful stuff as always.

Later,
Dras

( Posted by: Drastine [Member] On: December 6, 2002 )

re: brains
I'm not talking about rise from the grave zombies ;) .. I am indeed referring to the daily grind kind of zombies. I wrote this while I was watching the minutes tick by in my "cube" at work. Arg!

Thanks for the kinds words!

( Posted by: Chrispian [Admin] On: December 7, 2002 )





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