Poems from tmallory2
Death, death, all around.
Not making a peep, not making a sound.
It's not death coming for me that I fear.
It's death coming for the people...
My heart is racing, I don't know why it keeps beating really fast.
Each day I wake up, putting on this mask.
I get afraid to do certain...
Would I still stand up? Even if all are against me?
Would I still help out? Even if my pockets are empty?
Would I stand my ground? Even if...