To be amid the living, yet not in the grave is painful,

Every waking hour or minute is filled with as little

peace as to none,

The constant disappointments, anger, and no answers

are anywhere,

I am the Walking Dead

I have left off believing there will ever be any peace or happiness for me,

That anyone can understand my pain or even care

to help in my walk

I walk among the living during the day to perform a job for payment,

in order to survive according to this world's exchange_

to raise and take care of my son and me.

I walk among the living to encounter what continual abuse, pain

embarrassment, and lack of happiness this marriage has cost me.

I among the living live in a room 9x12 or 10x12, out of boxes_with my son,

hoping, praying, asking, and begging for assistance from

the living, and no help has come.

I among the living during the night_awake to sounds of loud music,

dogs persistently barking, roaches traveling in my space, and

the sickness of being alive.

I continue to be among the living to eat without letup, and

become this out of control being_

because I don't fit and its the only comfort I know,

I among the living is the Walking Dead.

I left my God, and I believe he no longer hears me,

So I am alone and will soon cease to walk among the living

and take my place among the dead_

perhaps then, I will rest.