Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.135.190.40

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

In the past we had to rip them from their mothers
   screaming, crying ... afraid
and remold them in our image
   antiquated traditions to be discarded
   minds and values to be upgraded
   by the Machine

Oh! The Glorious Machine ...

But the smoky, grinding beast of old has evolved itself
   Glistening, oiled, sleek ... and quiet ...
   Pure power - now alluring, irresistible.
Now they leave their mothers of their own choosing
   Caught up in wonder of the Machine.

Oh! The Glorious Machine ...

All shall serve for they are served.
   All are used up as they learn to use.
      All must bow before it ... or break

Oh ... The Glorious Machine ....



2024-09-15 finished quickly by 10:51 AM inspired by article "Sacred places" by Phillip Whiteman Jr.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required