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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Fantasy · #2290139
A race of not-quite humans, who wish to be fully human
Almost men hunting
For living human women,
To claim as their own.

Mutated creatures
Not quite human beings
Known as the almost-people.

Very close to human
The almost-people hide,
In dark alleyways.

Almost-people hope
To take over people's lives,
Then they will be real.

Almost-people hunt
Through night's dark thoroughfares,
Devouring human souls.

The almost-people
Lumber down dark alleyways,
Jealous of real folk.

Almost people suck
Living essence from humans,
Leaving nothing good.

Almost-people travel
Near dark, lonely highways,
Hidden from traffic.

Almost-women seek
Men to take as husbands,
Not to be seen again.

THE END
© Copyright 2023 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
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