he is
leather parchment
stretched against
a screaming skeleton
and miles of veins
filled with sludge
like sorrow
all that separates him
from the yawning chasm
of hell inspired fantasy
is the tethered
weather worn soul
like the flag
forgotten
in the wars
of time long gone
the poor bastard
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
Sounds like you need a hug, man.
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some days it feels that way.
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Sending you a hug… 🧟♀️ (couldn’t find a proper hug emoji… so… zombies). 😊🤙
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Zombies work. Thank you my friend.
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🐒👍
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“weather worn soul like the flag forgotten in the wars of time long gone” 💚
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