Waiting For The Zombies Poem by Harold R Hunt Sr

Waiting for the zombies
Here I stand in the middle of the graveyard.
Looking at all the tombstone. Waiting to see which one will open up tonight.
Will it be Jessie James or could it be Elvis Presley this very night?
Could it be a war hero or so one that I do not really know?
I stand here looking around just waiting and see if they come.
The thought of waiting for the zombies makes my blood run cold.
It's midnight I hear the sound of the old church bells.
There goes something pass the tombstones to the left.
no now to the right of me.
I feel the hot breath on the back of my neck.
Could it be a zombie that is there?
o nooo let me gooo....
I'm just waiting for the zombies sir not the pizza boy.