The First Three Poems

Poem 1: Alone (Part I)

I am alone,

I shall not moan,

Because then I would moan too much,

I shall not moan as such,

Because there is no point,

The zombies have taken my family,

And the world,

I am so fearful, my hair has curled,

Happens all the time,

I was going to buy my wife a present,

Because a day from here,

It was her birthday,

So there is also no point in me buying a dime,

For an eaten corpse,

By an angry person of the dead,

Enough said.

Poem 1: Alone (Part II) 

The ghastly winds, 

Forever stain a symbol in my back, 

Telling me I am alone, 

That there is nobody alive on the planet, 

I have searched and searched, 

For countless quantities of survives, 

The t-shirt I wear is stained with blood, 

The t-shirt I wear is a dark shade of black, 

If I had a time machine, I would go back, 

I would attempt to prevent all of this hassle, 

Escape from here, and tell the people of every country, 

As many countries as I can, 

United Kingdom, Africa, Australia, Brazil. 

I'd find a wonderful place, 

Abandoned by the rich family, 

Because there was a breakout there, 

On a green hill, 

Luxurious grass, 

Sit at the dining table on my own, 

Raise my clean, expensive glass, 

Without anybody raising their glass, 

As I am on my own, 

On my own, I am alone... 

Poem 2: Without A Friend

Going to high school,

They've all bloody changed,

All of them,

My best friend has left me,

My heart has just gone numb,

The only friend I had,

Is gone,

And the only thing I can see,

Is that I am alone,

Sitting my a*s down nearby,

The red gate,

The entrance of school,

Playing on my Nokia phone,

I feel mental pain,

My life has dropped down the drain,

Nobody could care,

If I had been thrown off a crane,

Nobody would know my name,

This was not always the way,

Only before high school,

I was one of the well-known people.

Now that I am a little used to this,

I would now ask people to leave me alone,

Because chances were,

They were stupid and ugly,

I would not certainly not call them Sir.

Poem 3: Trolls Under The Bridge

I see them all,

I see them all,

Hiding under the bridge,

If they had the opportunity,

They would steal everything they could,

From my fridge.

They know me, and I know them,

But those little trolls are as nasty as flem,

They would eat anything.

Dog s**t, cauliflower, a flower's stem.

They are green and skinny.

They are small, they are mini,

They are stupid, they are short,

The police wouldn't find them,

For all the things they had done,

They wouldn't go to court,

They faded from view,

That was nothing new,

It happened all the time,

They steal money they steal a dime,

They once stole the Mona Lisa,

They failed and they weren't charged,

Not even the money for a box of pizza,

They were never seen,

The police became mad,

The trolls would always be bad,

From birth to death,

They'd steal,

They'd smoke meth.

They were small, but they were evil.