Our Metal Beast
Down the road we talk and laugh,
In the metal beast that gives us a ride,
Who knows if it is willing,
And who would really care.
Who ever thought we could ruin,
the life of that which gives it back,
the metal beast are everywhere,
Large ones that seem to carry,
Fifty or more on their tracks.
Or the small ones no more than five or six,
they can carry,
These metal beast,
we never question,
these metal beast that spew out death,
in a smokey and floating form.
Our metal beast,
that we learn to love,
Our metal beast are everywhere,
polished and primed,
or rusty and old,
Our metal beast that we hold onto,
that we love,
Or take for granted.
Our metal beast,
spew out death to our home.
poem by Rebecca Adams
Added by Poetry Lover
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