Lamentation of an disenchanted do-gooder

Throw that syrup up the wall
Nothing sweet! Not at all.

The fields are shred to open wounds,
chopped to cost-effective chunks.

Yet the rats are digging deeper,
find the last of starving reaper,
uproot remains of rotting chaff,
condemn the rump of weary staff.

Throw these prayers in the well
Drown them! With a chiming bell.

Rivers torn through breaking borders,
led to tanks of golden quarters.

And yet the sharks are hunting further,
sense the last of fish to murder,
dive for scraps and wasting bones,
leave but lumps of muck and stones.

Look upon an airless night,
Choking on! Consumerโ€™s blight.

17 Comments

  1. Dear Eva. You write with a ancient pen. You told the truth with a honest pen. This is poetry. You made the reader feel, grasp and understand. Outstanding poetry.

      1. I wrote a new poem dear Eva. I am listening to German song and you were my muse. I loved your work, the set-up and meaningful words. You are welcome.

      2. I will check. I am a old man now. I like to pay with cash. I would like to own your book. I have thousands and I love reading. Reading and song. My muse. Have a wonderful day dear Eva,

      3. You may check if they can order it? I know with my novel that is possible, you can order it in bookstores, at least in Europe.

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