Fresh and young youths played on the white sand beaches
Splashing and falling and laughing
In the hungry waves
A storm ushered more residents to this veiled paradise
And though hesitant
The young men laughed and dealt a new deck of cards
A whirlpool devoured the creaky old barge
And the men paused in their games
Eyeing the newcomers with fear and suspicion
A tsunami swallowed the red sand beaches
And those past their prime spat
As a fresh batch of survivors clawed the cliffs toward them
Armageddon destroyed the iron maiden
And the old men hissed and growled
At the pitiful souls who merely wept and clung to driftwood
YOU ARE READING
Foreign Objects
PoetryI've been feeling pretty controversial lately, I guess. And everything having to do with the presidential election has just been going to shit. It's pretty frustrating. And one of my outlets happens to be writing, so yeah. This poem is a comment on...
