The Future Harvest

 

     It isn’t new,

Except if you’re at year zero

And we talked, really talked

Of having more,

     But the thought

Of bringing another child

Another lifeform

To this world,

Sparked only nightmares

And fear for the bairns

Already born,

     Let alone,

     Let alone; a new soul.

 

     Twenty-sixteen

Has been condemned already,

And the next,

And the next until,

We realize,

We wake from traditions

That select only the corrupted

Ways we are,

     For no further will it go,

The reality claiming

Future onslaughts,

Future dreams of blood and tears,

Where our fears

Our fears shape the life

We no longer want to live

And there will be no forgiveness,

     Just floods,

War, famine, plagues,

And a vicious cycle and circle

Of denial by established

Methods  that deny

The truth of how we really are,

And we’re done,

The gun proving stronger,

Than any idealistic wish.

 

Michael J Waite 2nd January 2016.