Let Us Face the Future Confidently

I see a cemetery. Whistle. There are
Monsters near. Despite what all our
Betters say, our kind will spiral toward
Extinction. Lunatics are leaders now,
And unwashed peasants egg them on.
The missiles fly. The warships probe,
And drones drone almost everywhere.
A simple disagreement can be amplified,
So many are, and troops are subsequently
Massed. A word from someone, no one,
Really, starts the battle. As it rages,
Even those at home aren't safe. The theory
Is that those who labor on behalf of enemies
Are enemies themselves, you know.
The bombs will come to comfy suburbs.
Even trendy moms may starve,
And, once it's over, who knows who
Will surge into our empty homes?
A race erased, that's how it goes.
Come whistle with me now.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 160 times
Written on 2019-08-29 at 03:27

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