undead lullabye : a poem

The dead they walk with shuffling feet,
In the streets they wait to eat,
To them I smell like a tasty snack,
My brains to them are akin to crack,
They moan ,they groan, they drool, they bite,
My delicate flesh a zombie delight,
In the darkness I do creep,
To find supplies like food to eat,
Surviving like a gutter rat,
Them and me and a baseball bat,
I hear them coming I need to run,
But not before I have some fun,
And there one stands all alone,
I swing my bat and hear it groan,
I bash his face in with such glee,
That’s one less zombie who might eat me,
The putrid stench of rotting flesh,
What I would give for air that’s fresh,
The streets are sticky with blood and ooze,
I hear it sloshing beneath my shoes,
The sickening crunch as I step on bones,
The city is nothing more than bodies and stones,
I find a safe place to rest my head,
Surrounded by the lullaby of the living dead.