Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Just a poem

Submitted:Feb 19, 2012    Reads: 43    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


By M. E. Riddle

City flattened, economy crushed

People starving, many hushed

The nothing machine worked

And many rejoiced

At the techno-volcano

As a mound of dirt.

We live in a conscience

Where no rice grows

A house of cards

A land of stone

A place of cold.

Factorized meditation

Industrial clone

An entire life's savings

To live on a throne

To be with our own.

The tide brought evil

And all that it stands


In waves breaking sand

In a desperate lonely land.


| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list


About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.