Poem: The Burning Sky

Progress

Means fire.

The sky is aflame.

The seas all sick

The forests all maimed.

Progress

Means fire.

The people are poor.

Their hearts in tatters

Their fates all ignored.

 

Progress

Means smoke

Which we choke on today.

Forever in the grey

that clogs our lungs

and seeds us with

decay.

 

Where do they come from, the fires of change?

The sky is aflame

The forests are maimed.

Where does it come from, the progressively thicker smoke?

The smoke that chokes

us in our beds does not evoke

A feeling of danger

or a feeling of fear

from any but the poor of us

who cry useless tears

while the rich fan the flames

to keep us all down

and in the name of progress

the lot of us drown.

—-

©2013 Sam Oliver (Eris)

—-

 

WHAT A DOWNER. I’m a downer. I’m sorry! Lot on my mind!

<3s,

Eris

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