A harsh reality

Reality Bites
Out in the world of the living
it seems to be the bottomless
pit of Hell we are in.
Sad to say we are there.

Reality bites us hard
in the backside like a rabid dog
who needs to be put down.
There's no point in denying that.

In the world of the dead
there is no one to kick us
in the head when we are down.
We are ghosts among the living.

Reality bites us not,
for we are mere shadows
walking on this hellish plain
of existance yet not.

Poets' Note: I had to edit a small section because of a few choice words that I had used when I orginally wrote this into a note pad as I worked my day job.--HW