and we the few lay vacant
as to how to survive.
The weather bleak.
The waves un-rested from the storm
and we here sit and wonder why and how
the world became so ugly and left its mark,
the dawn of time no more.
What is it about us as man
that left the idle rich rule the land?
What type of adventurous soul
left that mark and soil
to ruin him to sustain for all?
What type of genius
thought of GMO as a way to go?
What type of idiot
framed the world as one
and called it a game?
The horrifying thought
that nuclear war was a way to go
made me think
whatever was I a part to play
to let the world, once formidable and grand
to wretched and vile on every soil
stench with that of war and decay?
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August 24th, 2016
Tags: The Long War