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Ben London Mar 2014
The absolute, hopeless powerlessness
That affects with such power
Is gripping, growing, twisting and tearing
With every wasteful hour.

I can't escape the inevitable weight,
Above everything to which I turn,
Nor his knowing eyes and face as I lie and negate
That it was his earth we brutally burned.

Do I want to one day wake up
To meet my boy's accusing stare
Then to beg him and plead to forget my greed,
Make him forget I chose not to care...?

"I swear I didn't do it son,
Not for diamonds nor for pearls.
I didn't sell the priceless,
I didn't **** your world!"

"Not **** for she never told you 'No',
No matter what beauty you'd find.
Though her supplies were clearly running low,
She was the easy, giving kind.

"But you plucked her fruit, you tore her skin,
You chopped then burned her flesh and laughed.
You drank and sang and danced on her
Whilst she wheezed and coughed and gasped.

"You took your mother nature's womanhood,
Are you now pleased with these ashes, this ****?
Are you pleased that even after you made her bleed
She offered a last chance and you never took it?"

So I now give my life to the son I have not,
It is the debt that I owe him, for the price he would pay.
And I urge you to consider those children you've not got
And their earth's hell tomorrow for our lives today.

— The End —