Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
What a tragically human fault, The wound of our human nature Doused in a history that’s a burning salt Tongues drag 'cross the wound to soften the sting The taste is a foul thing, savor these poor decisions; Feel flavour of mistakes, disgrace, dead-dreams and heart-aches. All a waste. Wastes of wits, dreams, moments, chances, waste of choices, Voices lost somewhere in evolution, where we drew the conclusion That since we’re superior, all must then be inferior. Our decision was dominance, not prominence. We wield wicked weapons of war with pin-point precision. Laid waste in minutes what it took lifetimes to build, Disregard the structures, think of the innocence killed. Blood gets spilled like there's some quota to fill. And isnt it a lovely day to be a human being? There's nothing like ****** in the morning, Or gunfire without warning. Countries still warring Over a fabric of society long since ripped; torn. The peace concept is present, but the practice so foreign. World leaders still ******* their ideals. None of them know what it feels like to be, see, or even concern themselves. They’re empty shells The beast misstepped during his waltz into the world, Humans got a kiss from Selfish, then hurled to the curb Then, alone in rain, decided that's our date. Making a perfect pair in a world unfair, That Irate and Anger should copulate with Power and Knowledge Birthing 7 billion beings none better than the last, but each boasting birth rights, over shells that tumble from empty chambers. Isnt it a lovely day to be a human being?
0
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 4:56 PM UTC
Human Climate
What a tragically human fault, The wound of our human nature Doused in a history that’s a burning salt Tongues drag 'cross the wound to soften the sting The taste is a foul thing, savor these poor decisions; Feel flavour of mistakes, disgrace, dead-dreams and heart-aches. All a waste. Wastes of wits, dreams, moments, chances, waste of choices, Voices lost somewhere in evolution, where we drew the conclusion That since we’re superior, all must then be inferior. Our decision was dominance, not prominence. We wield wicked weapons of war with pin-point precision. Laid waste in minutes what it took lifetimes to build, Disregard the structures, think of the innocence killed. Blood gets spilled like there's some quota to fill. And isnt it a lovely day to be a human being? There's nothing like ****** in the morning, Or gunfire without warning. Countries still warring Over a fabric of society long since ripped; torn. The peace concept is present, but the practice so foreign. World leaders still ******* their ideals. None of them know what it feels like to be, see, or even concern themselves. They’re empty shells The beast misstepped during his waltz into the world, Humans got a kiss from Selfish, then hurled to the curb Then, alone in rain, decided that's our date. Making a perfect pair in a world unfair, That Irate and Anger should copulate with Power and Knowledge Birthing 7 billion beings none better than the last, but each boasting birth rights, over shells that tumble from empty chambers. Isnt it a lovely day to be a human being?
joe-milton
Written by
Canadian
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 4:56 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem