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Scarce Heard Amid the Guns Below
by Trisha De Gracia
To you with failing hands
we threw the torch.
We missed
and never learned from their mistakes.
Instead,
we'll die our noble death to serve our countries
East to West
and proudly perish now for dirt
that has no preference,
not for race
nor for religion.
Dirt to hold the bodies of beasts
that greet their own eternity
with thunder in their hands.
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Today we make our lives the way
we made them yesterday
and fill them with our toils and troubles
to let them steep and brew among our heightened insecurities
dimmed against the backdrop of a bleak outlook on life.
Our only Earth
she breathes her sighs and watches as
we crawl not as the beasts we started out as
but as the pulsing mass of humanity
that we've degenerated into.
Pity, how we drag our wounded bellies 'cross the snow
to cry against our self-inflicted torment.
All and all
the intelligence of man
has been greatly overstated.
11/25/2003 Posted on 11/25/2003
Copyright © 2024 Trisha De Gracia
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Meghan Helmich on 07/21/08 at 08:45 PM a-g-r-e-e-d! wow, trisha, you nailed it! the beast comparison is superb. 'we drag our wounded bellies 'cross the snow..' that's just breathtaking. |
| Posted by Amie Golda on 04/05/10 at 05:38 AM Wow, such vivid words and what a unique perspective as well!
"we crawl not as the beasts we started out as
but as the pulsing mass of humanity
that we've degenerated into."--->Speaks such strong tones of the times today and the social and environmental degredation.
A very deep and honest write indeed. Well done.
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