Untitled Word of the day Poem #24

Set back
my home
my prison
at the end of the road
watching 
every day
as live people walk by
shuffle by
run by
afraid of the voices calling.
Vicious
murderous
we rove through these grounds
reaching for the living
as they pass.
Signs of the cross
muttered prayers
crossing the road
flick the evil eye
all in attempt to stay saved
from this mealy yard.
Eyes vacant
lips creased in sneers
wandering this death spot
forever attached to this sin.
stones falling
rubble abounds.
Once this was a hospital.
Once a school.
Once an insane asylum.
Now blooded
blackened
ruins 
unsanctified ground
rovers we all be.
Murderous Fools.
Revenge on the lip
curse on the sky
forever tied to these broken bones.
Feb. 26/19