Looking Down!

Looking down at my young clear skin

full of energy and hope

innocent not seeing any fear around

a life time ahead of me

then no internet nor mobile phones

robots and human clones!

 

Less complicated not the pressures

vinyl records and cassettes

shops closed Sundays families spoke

safe for children outside

being able to grow in natural stages

not endless exam pages!

 

Today I look down at my ageing skin

struggling to keep warm

nobody calls or ever bothers to visit

harder to pay rising bills

families split lacking close support

respect no longer taught!

 

The elderly are considered a burden

in this faltering society

where corruption affects everybody

greed no compassion

services shut for lack of funds its said

on egg shells we do tread`!

 

Life may have been hard but people cared

kindness and help freely shared!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

From The Edge!

From the edge of the restaurant garden

where children played.

And parents sat happily in the sun

unaware of what glared.

Through thick bushes of its border

was life from a new order!

 

Dormant until conditions were precise

to be the first-born.

Deep in the soil a crashed meteor lay

aliens spores slowly grew!

Matured ready with humans to mingle

as nerve endings tingled!

 

Rising from the deep clinging clay it  came

an unearthly creature emerged!

Into the unknown with faltering steps

to those present a monster.

Though not showing aggressive traits

not a good fate awaits!

 

Where anything unexplained was feared

had to be evil or violent!

Yet the creature was passive and docile

an infant of its kind.

Men with guns arrived to exterminate

this life to obliterate!

 

Before scientist could intervene to save

a unique alien species.

Weapons killed with no care or mercy

with man’s usual aggression.

Being the dominant species their vision

no compromise or division!

 

Satisfied they’d made the proper choice

another set of eyes observed.

Absorbing a violent ending of a brother

intent on a different approach.

As more of the alien sleepers awoke

through the soil they broke!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

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