Technology and mass production
may be the cause of man's destruction.
______

I'm failing
And I'm doing it at twice the speed than I'm falling
It's daunting,
Can't shake this loser feeling
Always ******* in dealing
With a mind that reeling,
Emotions that are spiking,
A heart that's spilling,
A soul depleting
And thoughts sent spinning
It's not even something I'm hearing
At least not outside of this in house courtroom hearing
That's taking place every morning,
Going deep into the evening
No,
There's no co conspiring,
No colluding
Or hitman hiring
It's self inflicted self destruction,
Without instruction
And while it's death defying
It's still an emotional beating
To the point I begin wondering
Am I still a living,
Breathing,
Human being
Type thing?
A strange bit of questioning

©2024

A lovely day, the eighth of May, with sunshine and light breeze
You could not tell, that all’s not well and we felt safe at ease
A little blip, a video clip, showed damage way out west
But that was far, and could not mar our little place of rest

The march of time, brought clouds that climb, into an angry sky
And soon the voice, gave us a choice, as winds began to fly
I stood and watched, the radar notched, and signified a storm
I waited to see, the possibility, of it’s mighty form

In lapsing light, at infamous heights, they formed and went away
With funnels strong, it was not long, I heard the voice say
“Take cover NOW, the storms somehow, are imminent and direct”
So in a panic, acting quite frantic, we sought a way to protect

As sullen skies stopped, the stillness topped our deep distraught concern
And all was still, and quiet until, the skies began to turn
Clouds regrouped, and trees were scooped, like toothpicks they did snap
And running fast, entrance at last, was like a treasure map

We were inside, seeking to hide, from winds and funnel cones            
Windows broke, and trees did stroke, our little country home
Our chimney fell, the stones did sail, the rocks blasted our roof
The wind and rain, sound like a train, the damage is the proof

Well I must say, it went away, as fast as it had started
It seemed much longer, as it was stronger, just before it parted
It buried the cars, with trees like bars, in only thirty seconds
Doors blocked, the driveway socked, and freedom clearly beckoned

We were blessed, and if you guessed, this was real and true
In cleanup mode, our small abode, with so much left to do
I ache for those, whose loss arose, to greater heights than this
With nature’s aim, no one’s to blame, just pray it goes amiss