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...