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Ready or Not

Here They Come

By John Lennon BoggsPublished 5 years ago 1 min read

The forests are all dead.

The green is gone, no birds of song.

Lighting strikes all night.

Don't go out unless you have to.

The air is stale as bread.

Pay per breath of oxygen.

Rain comes pouring down.

Scarring everything that it touches.

Run for cover.

Try to hide.

Nothing to fear, now that's a lie.

Ready or not,

Here they come.

This isn't all that fun.

Tearing at your clothes.

Nothing feels right anymore.

Chewed up spit out nail.

Always happens, never fails.

Sit down in this hole.

Pattycakes and broken souls.

Thunder rumble sounds.

Like it matters, now anyhow.

Run for cover.

Try to hide.

There's no sanctuary inside.

Ready or not,

Here they come.

This isn't all that fun.

The ocean drained for good.

The fish we misunderstood.

Had it figured out.

We ate them all. Boy, we were hungry.

Check inside the locket,

Shaped just like a heart.

Finger in the socket.

Act like it doesn’t hurt.

Run for cover.

Try to hide.

Nothing to believe, except the lie.

Ready or not,

Here they come.

This isn't all that fun.

No, this isn't all that fun.

surreal poetry

About the Creator

John Lennon Boggs

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