Poem: Earth

The State of Earth

Towering piles of waste,
Reaching towards the sky,
With poison and toxins laced,
The earth itself, begins to die.

The rule of man is cruel,
and apathy is abound,
We shut our eyes,
and close our ears to the noise around,

of the earth’s clamorous cries,
and that of our fellow man,
We wallow in our bread and circuses,
and blame our fate upon “god’s plan”.

The power of man is great,
He can create and destroy,
but his greed will not abate,
Till the planet runs dry.

Each man, woman and child,
We must turn ourselves around,
and see the devastation dealt,
to our green and blue round.

There may be other lands,
Near far away stars,
but this sand, this soil,
tis naught but ours

We, the people, have been led,
by thieves and crooks,
till our earth has bled,
and dry, run the brooks

There is yet time,
There is yet hope
and we hold within ourselves
The power to make amends,

Each and Every Human,
Rise and open your minds
The earth is ours, so grasp the pen of god,
and let us be the author of our fate.
-A

Helloo, SUNDAY OF ’16! I mean 17!

Here’s to another lap around the sun, and to a few months of writing 16, scratching it out, and then awkwardly scrawling in 7 instead.

This particular poem was written in July of 2014, and has a very SUBTLE message. I wrote this with a different sense of rhythm, trying to go for a more asymmetrical approach, although personally I prefer poems with neat, structured rhyming sequences.

Let’s hope that this solar lap is better than the last one, see all of you 1/52th of a year later!

Cycling away,

Adithyaa

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