Oil
An interesting little poem about oil.
Kia Kroas :=: 24 Apr, 2009 12:00:18
The Earth screamed a solemn cry
as her skin was ripped apart.
The cracked up sod lingers
for a tree's soft hug,
a kiss from a passing bug,
or a gardener's soft tug.
Man is a fearsome beast
to have no mercy
for such a beauty.
He blasts the ground
and drills the soil
and drinks its dark reward.
Her blood is drained
and poison rains,
yet still he drinks
from the drying sink.
He has no fear,
gives not a second thought,
because his grinding gears
without the liquid
will rot.
Her children now see much despair,
from all the pollution
in the air.
But he,
that man,
fares far much worse,
because this blood
is a fated curse.
Man will fight his wars,
forevermore,
so he may have
this dark,
black blood,
this liquid gold,
in the mud.