Far across the water sits a little Chinese man, who has his own ideas of life's most desired plan.
On the other side of the ocean is yet another guy, whose plan doesn't agree with a Chinese minds eye.
Petty is their game but they just don't see it so, and so they push each other in a destructive to and fro'.
Two school boys being bullies is the policy that they choose, Both belligerent and stubborn, both determined not to lose.
Surely they must see that the other guy wont ever give in. Preferring total destruction over allowing the other guy to "win".
They cant see that neither side will ever accept to give, Both intent to destroy it all than allow us all to live.
All can see it coming but no one dares make a sound, until the mark of mankind's passing is just craters in the ground.
Xi Jinping... Donald Trump... for **** sake... grown up. The world is reliant on you guys being sane and sensible. You must know there is only one place the road you are currently following leads. Losing for everyone isn't the right course. Reach out a hand and change the future.
Of all the wicked forms of man We're in the worst, uncaring hands; For I've never seen so many fools Fail together as they lose their cool. The universe itself is blowing smoke As the whole world stumbles, chokes On the gas we're huffing The lies, the bluffing The wind bags breathing hot air- The misery, day in day out- All enough to make me shout- So what?? Like I even care! Can we just pick a mode that works, Or let the end come nigh? I'm tired, I'm done, This is really not fun And it makes me want to cry. So when you ******* are done pretending That this messed up world is ending If you could turn the light switch on And then, very helpfully, Get the **** gone.
two lines is not a poem its two lines it has no substance no structure its a thought someone caught is it noteworthy not in the least but the person who writes without themselves there not present here in the moment of all the people who do such who think it only takes that much should give your head a wobble it's just a load of cobble the two lines are just that like a load of tatt truly poetry comes from a calling a memory a feeling is nothing dust blowing in the breeze you make a mockery of the art like you just would **** all over your page not bleed at any stage is it because your simply not smart enough to have a worthy entry dig deeper into your soul if you lack the talent of this simple art pray tell are you worth more than a **** ? if you throw art away thinking you can walk away then i have this to say your not an artist your stuck in self pity look in the mirror and think where did you go or did you just blink those two lines bug me more than any times i've seen anything else are your not incapable or simply not know how i think you just don't give the art the respect it so needs look at yourself a poem is not two lines a thought a passing a nothing this is not your diary find somewhere else to share because i for one care you lay the art bare more effort should be found if your words are to be sound.