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We Nailed This Word.

We Nailed This Word,

Isn’t it Ironic
more than a little bit absurd,
that man first creates,
then becomes the meaning
of a word.

That word being pestilence,
with all it’s horrifying fame.
Man’s good book just pretence,
claiming a devil was to blame.

To blame for all the carnage,
by murder, hunger or disease.
Causing man’s horrid inner rage,
to spill another’s blood with ease.

I say our good books incorrect,
look now at mother earth.
Then at man, a greedy gnawing insect,
a plague, destroying or consuming all
from birth.

About This Poem

Last Few Words: It came to pass,

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: Scotland, Ayrshire land of Burns.., GBR

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Comments

Geezer

Geezer

5 years 10 months ago

The rhyme...

is great! The sentiment not so good, but at least accurate! ~ Gee.
.

Roscoe Lane

Roscoe Lane

5 years 10 months ago

Thank you,

Thank you, and it truly saddens me. I wish I could see man in another guise. Regards Roscoe...