Little People
It was weekend when I set off, to go fishing by the lake,
Not too far from the house, about 6 hours drive it would take.
I arrived there early morning and booked my usual spot,
The morning was lovely not too cold and not too hot.
I waded into the water, knee high on the bank,
I’m going to catch some fish for eating and little ones for the fish tank.
But then a sparkle at the bottom, a beautiful castle on the sand,
“I must have it,” I said, and gently cupped it in my hands.
There were what looked like millions of little people all staring up at me,
They all said “We prayed O Lord you will come and it is you that we see.”
But the sand between my fingers, began to seep away,
They cried “O God you visited us and brought your wrath this judgement day.”
Well one hundred thousand little souls died, all because of my curiosity,
I see their little faces at night, how could I cause such an atrocity.
*The Power in Your Hands Contest*
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
