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!~
Copyright © Jeffry Cohan | Year Posted 2011
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