The
Clamouring.
Turn off the T.V. Show me no war.
Silence the ‘phone. I won’t talk any more.
Tell me no sad thing which makes my heart
break.
Shut down the ‘talk-back.’ It all seems so fake.
Minds sliding down through tunnels of voices.
Scream out in anguish at terrible choices.
Dreading a world wracked and swimming in
sadness.
Clawing and reaching, to bind all in madness.
We try to recapture the solace we knew.
The arc of our dreaming we once secretly flew.
To gaze through the sunlight and crystalline
air.
And look back in wonder at earth, and just
stare.
I’m sorry my child this is what we have left
you.
I’m sorry my child there is little we’ve kept
you.
There were wonders so great, we trampled them
all.
Sights
so exquisite; forests thick, lush and tall.
I’m sorry my child, I’ll try to describe;
The world
as it once was and seek not to hide.
The avarice and malice which took it away
And stopped the birds singing, first thing
every day.
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