| Add Memory | Add To Friends | |
| m&ms487 (profile) wrote, on 3-13-2008 at 9:31am | |
| The Changing Time They come FLOODING out of the Buildings: It is time. I. I see the small people Scramble Hating the cold burning the Inside of their Noses, Hating their own body for turning against them. I need a tissue, please! My nose is spurting inappropriate mucus! II. There goes one, Huddling inside his hood, Like a turtle, afraid the air, the atmosphere Will endanger him. Perhaps he’s right. With the smoke stack only a few hundred feet away, And a thousand [probably more, I’m bad at estimations] Cars; Rolling into the parking lot Who would want to breathe this air? It’s not a choice. Maybe gas masks will become As popular, as fashionable, As carting around 16 ounces of water In dispensable plastic bottles. I firmly believe: We make our own Destiny. III. There, Another, Her pants are screamingly PINK! I’m sure I can almost make out a shirt that SHOUTS: KISS ME I’M IRISH! When I bet she’s more French than anything, She can’t even hold her own beer. IV. Now just a few Remain, Wandering, Aimlessly, But with Direction in Mind. V. Now, all are gone; They’ve scurried themselves To their destination: to their destiny. |
|
| Post A Comment |
gillette | 03-13-08 9:43pm good.
|