Barron Ground!

Those who had destroyed their planet Prepared to colonise a new earth! The Foureyed Poet.

The Foureyed Poet

Through the barren ground there was hope

a tiny plant grew!

The drought almost wiped man from earth

mined of all goodness.

Without water the human race declined

few were left to find!

Warnings ignored but the wealthy hoarded

while most were denied.

Rain became just a word in our history

so from billions alive.

Numbers fell to less than a hundred thousand

a child’s cry a rare sound!

Two centuries went by the numbers dwindled

the earth like a huge prune.

Vegetation was withered sand replaced fields

the sea paddling pools!

The survivors huddled in the many cool caves

the dying planets slaves!

Then that day early before the unbearable heat

two young humans saw.

Under a shaded rock overhang rarely visited

life they’d never seen.

How could it be growing in this dry dead soil

without water or toil?

Had nature at last regenerated starting to heal

the…

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Published in: on 08/01/2015 at 17:03  Leave a Comment  

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