Living Graveyard

Graveyard for the living
Is what I saw that day.
Reeked of death and decay.
Gray and dank, each tomb filled
With two or three dead ones.
The tombstones: poorly cut
Typed names, easily switched
With the next occupant.
Endless rooms full of dead.
Unwanted and forgot
The dead lived, technically.
Sitting, staring, blankly.
TVs on, curled alone
Knowing the reason for
Their prison. One escaped.
As he wheeled out they stood
Watching with envy as
The ambulance he rode.
Another corpse moved in,
The tombstone removed and
replaced with another.
Again full, the endless
Halls of the dead go on
Dying, waiting for the
End with help from no one.


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