by Bob'n Around
Everything must come to an end, but what future is offered with the passing?
|No news is good news, who could refuse silence infused? I mused, sure of the cues.
The internet was down with the blues, taking a snooze. Who lit the fuse? My mind cruised.
The world might be a better place, with a back turned and silent human race.
Just think, the climate crisis might be dead, if there was no climate left.
Immigration become lost, nowhere to go, everyone double-crossed.
Mass species extinction easily ended with not one left extended.
Pollution, not to be left out, poisoned a left over earth with a major clout.
Pandemic disease had nowhere to sneeze, no longer bringing us to our knees.
Somewhere might evolved a thing or two, clinging to life like superglue,
It’s future made sure by feasting on toxins made pure, a new world to explore.
What? Mankind had delayed itself into a mass grave, a rippling ground wave.
Too long we had tarried, our reasons why varied and with us buried.
At what great cost, I saw our future unforgiving calendar pages tossed.
Ripped and laid bare, empty of purpose other than wallowing in absolute despair.
Politics and lies, grievance cries, no cause won the prize, all these had died.
From dusk to dawn, each moment ticked on, an unheard heedless song.
Was it only a fanciful vision, this horrific collision of unexercised decisions?
Safe in my air conditioned lair, the internet sputtered, back on the air.
My nightmare began to fade, in one last look my eyes strayed, locked, stayed.
That sight lay displayed forever engraved in the Remains of the Day."
20 line poem entered into the Writer's Cramp contest. Prompt last line phrase in bold.