Many thousand moons ago,
The world was more than we now know,
With skies of blue and fields of green,
And every colour in between.
The days were long, the mornings, bright,
The evenings, late into the night,
The air was fresh and unpolluted,
Freedom, given, undiluted.
Thoughts and speech, a given right,
Unlike, where, now, no word is right,
Where false set standards raise the bar,
To tell you who you aren't and are.
We now reside within a place,
Where no one can meet face to face,
We all must bide our every speech,
Lest altered quotes read as our preach.
We live upon a sphere of rock,
Endangered by the human clock,
What time is this, in which our eyes,
Are clouded by a fog of lies?
We stand as writers on this earth,
Where, to our words, we all give birth,
We use our ink through thick and thin,
Produce the words from deep within.
Want to join the conversation? Sign in to leave a comment.