The year was 2081,
And everybody was finally equal.
Nobody was better looking
Nobody was stronger or quicker.
But somethings about living still weren't quite right,
The H-G men took Harrison, away.
It was tragic.
White and trembling,
Tears stood on the rims.
Ballerinas had collapsed
Holding their temples.
Scrams and barking
Cries of consternation,
Dancing to the tune of an earthquake.
It was tragic.
Music began again
Much improved.
Explosion of joy and grace,
Into the air they sprang!
Carried a double-barreled ten-gauge shotgun.
Fired twice,
Dead before they hit the floor.
It was tragic.
~Kali Forster
YOU ARE READING
This Is Me
PoetryThis is going to be where I'm putting my poetry. Please don't hate. All of these poems come from the heart and I hope that you guys enjoy (or at least like) them. Thanks a bunch, Kali!!
