Black Boards
The dry black boards are cracked and warped
The dead red earth is bare
All life perspires
As it expires
Beneath the dead sun's glare
Things of green?
No longer seen
No new life splits it's cells
The smokestack's fumes
Pervading gloom
That covers landscapes fell
Still money seems the thing that's deemed
More valuable than all
As leaders strive
To preach the lies
Of all mankind's downfall
Saying
'Take the world and rape it for
The glory of the one.
The index
The dollar
The new god of the sun'.
poem by Josh Ras
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.