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Sasha Fenn Apr 2019
These flowers are dead.
Gobbled up by starving kids,
Earth's last slice of joy...

Will we plant plucked men
atop their blacktop mass graves
to honor their lives?

Might as well leave them.
Let their spirits watch in glee.
Serve them their revenge...

We'll boil up our home
and set this patient globe free
from our apathy.
And so humans lose the world.
Sasha Fenn Mar 2019
Look, do you see?
Do you see?
There is nothing there to see.
You can not see.
Nor can I.
There is clearly nothing there,
for glass is clear,
and there is nothing there.
The poster is gone,
or the glass is empty.
The glass is empty,
and the poster is gone.
The time has passed,
and the time is short,
and the time is near,
and the time is little,
and the time is impatient,
and the time is deaf,
and dumb,
and the time is a cloak,
and the glass is empty,
and the poster is gone,
and the glass is empty.
I wrote this, some time ago, as an expression of my regret and sadness after missing a community event that I had wanted to be a part of.

Since it's been so long since I wrote this, it's hard to say for sure what some of the inspirations are, but while I'm now an atheist I was, at the time of writing this, a Christian, and I believe the "time is" repetitions were partially inspired by the "time for this and time for that" in the bible.

— The End —