The Looking Glass Volume 36 | Página 82

Death?

Todd Burns

I think I am dead.

I see a shiny, bright light.

It’s straight ahead.

A body in a full spread;

Chest feels tight.

I think I am dead.

Am I laying in bed?

A dream full of fright?

It’s straight ahead.

Dreams of being injected with lead

feels too real; late at night

I think I am dead.

I’m hanging on by a thread.

Can I keep up the fight?

It’s straight ahead.

There’s a weight on my head.

I do not feel alright.

I think I am dead.

It’s strange ahead.