Smokestack
The genie loomed
Large, imposing above
The city lights
Bridges and buildings too
And also above the people
Their commitments, morals
Even their dreams.
It rose gently,
Unstoppable, unaware
Or uncaring
Of the silly folk below.
With genies, should come wishes
But I was not asked for mine.
I would wish for peace
To settle in the hearts of men
For fear of self and others to be
Overcome
Not for this...
Whatever it is
This sickness upon the world
That settles nothing,
Except upon our souls
A resignation to hopelessness and
Impotence
Who rubbed into life this genie?
That rises now at sunset,
Now above our heads
Posing as a cloud
Reaching its arms across the sky
Reflecting light,
But blotting out life.
Thanks for visiting!
For posts on emotions, nature, poetry, and scotch,
come follow my blog!
come follow my blog!