My brothers have all been taken from me,
My sisters, eaten by metal teeth.
Only my cousin remains,
Just out of reach sending me silent support.
We both know whats coming.
For we are not loved by any but the bugs.
People care less for us then the grass.
I can here the monster in the distance,
Ready to gobble me down along with my cousin.
We are the last meal and victory for it.
To humans we are weeds.
What are we to you?
YOU ARE READING
The Lonesome Rock and other Poems and Shorts
PoetryWhat does a lonely rock think as it sits all alone? What does the last dandelion do as it waits to be devoured? What happened in the house on the hill?
