Dead Man Walking Poem by C.F Francis

Dead Man Walking



Emptied souls glide the surface of the earth
With their long stretch anesthetized hands
Elongate to the heavens. Their crack skulled
Faces are painted with the colour death.
Lifeless they think they are.
Their windows are open but empty and dry,
It is overcast with the fog and web of this world.
In group of two they stroll to their place of rest.
Waiting for the happy times

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