PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Beautiful babies are blooming in the world, but it’ll already be way too late by the time they learn to speak their minds

Beautiful bombs are bursting in the world, but it’ll already be way too late by the time we realize their beauty is only pleasant from far away

Beautiful bonds are being broken in the world, but it’ll already be way too late by the time we realize that witnessing reality is worse than being blind

Beautiful borders are being built in the world, but it’ll already be way too late by the time the devastation and debris starts to decay



…And I don’t know

What to say

When my child

Asks me someday…



Why are there bloodstains on the sheets?

Why are there tears in your eyes?

Why are there strangers on the streets?

Why are there bombs falling from the skies?

…And where do we go when we die?



Hideous humans inhabit the world, but it’ll already be way too late by the time we push the beautiful button to erase the atrocious aftermath while seeking rescue and recovery in rewind

Hideous hungry, hungry hippos hunt in the world, but it’ll already be way too late by the time we find enough harvest to shoo them away

Hideous hidden harmony and hope hibernates in the world, but it’ll already be way too late by the time we awaken and unlock the answers with a key so impossible to find

Hideous hysteria heightens havoc in the world, but it’ll already be way too late by the time the children come out to play



…And I don’t know

What to say

When my lover

Asks me someday…



Why are there bloodstains on the sheets?

Why are there tears in your eyes?

Why are there strangers on the streets?

Why are there bombs falling from the skies?

…And where do we go when we die?



…This planet is pregnant with potential, but my eyes have not seen signs of premature labor quiet yet

And when that dreadful day finally comes, society’s diaper will surely be soaking wet…