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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Drama · #2045160
Life and death happen while you are on the phone.



Today I saw a zombie with a phone in it's hand.
Beside it was an angel, having just learned to stand.
The angel looked up at it, with big adoring eyes.
The zombie didn't notice, as it was scrolling lies.

The angel tried again to steal the zombie's gaze
by reaching cherub arms up to break the zombie daze.
The irritated zombie roughly swept those hands away,
simply now repeating; "Can't you just go and play?"

Angels love to play, so away the cherub went,
curiously touching things and smelling every scent.
The angel soon felt thirsty and knew just what to do,
returning to the zombie's leg and tapping, one then two.

The zombie turned it's angry eyes upon the angel's brow
just for a second shouting; "What is it now?"
The angel was quite startled and so, began to cry.
The zombie just ignored the tears and didn't wonder why.

The angel still was thirsty, so tried to help herself.
She climbed upon a chair, so she could reach the shelf.
She found her favorite cup and opened up the door.
The one with all the bottles, by the sink, near the floor.

She tried so hard to open and finally got the one.
She poured it in her cup and drank til it was gone.
It was a pretty color but it didn't taste too well.
That was a surprise because she really liked the smell.

Now off to play, just like the zombie said.
The zombie found her two hours later, cold, lifeless, dead.
Now God has his angel back within her heavenly home.
The zombie only has it's precious, priceless, silly phone.
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