This Poem Is Dedicated To All Those Poets Seeking Inspiration S B

TRY OR DIE It’s awake I hear it shake From the inside out I hear it shout It’s losing self-esteem And now I hear it scream I hear it ‘s tormenting yell’ Advising us that the alternative to this is Hell See the man cut down another tree Oh well, one less for my grandson to trim From a forest of rain to woodlands in pain And things are looking damnably dim This is a world regurgitating volcanoes While there are too many maniacs killing And what will be left for my grandson no one knows Unless we stop the blood from spilling I can hear it getting angrier by the day While we wait for devastation to kill thousands more Inside it rumbles and waits to erupt So I’m ready for anything it can throw at me and more While we wait for devastation to kill by the score Because it’s angry about the things mankind will corrupt Will my grandson still have fresh water to drink? It surely makes me think What will we leave for our grandchildren and theirs? And it could fashion itself mighty quicker than you blink And it makes me think I hear it scream They are blind to the steam And it’s not a dream This isn’t Hell but we’re heading that way As we pollute every ocean, lake and each bay Now I’m certainly no prophet so I can’t say All I can do for this aching planet is pray © 2011.…..Phreepoetree ~free cee!~