All the ills of the world, and she had to walk into mine
A young girl holds a mystery box,
its contents quite unknown.
A simple clasp without a lock -
what wonders might be shown?
A charming scene of innocence,
releases shades of pestilence
to swarm the whole world ‘round.
Cell towers pop up everywhere,
beam links across the land.
Smartphone zombies tap and stare,
hold screens instead of hands.
Masked-up lonely isolation
becomes a viral meme,
and pandemic desolation
our new reality.
Famine stalks the dispossessed,
who seek a peaceful home.
No mercy from the smugly blessed
who grudge a dog a bone.
Unending war runs hot and cold,
drones on in desert heat.
A distant click serves death to go
from an air-conditioned seat.
A carbon blanket for the sky,
from fossil conflagration.
Smothered glaciers shrink and die,
bring coastal inundation.
Dark clouds of fear bring culture change,
with rising tides of spite.
As reason ebbs, a world deranged
seeks sin instead of light.
Corruption, lies, and misplaced faith
spark rage and gnashing teeth.
False teachers raise up flags of hate,
and spread disharmony.
A thousand ills afflict our world,
the source could not be clearer.
Pandora's just a scapegoat girl,
the culprit's in the mirror.
Author's note: ▼