a certain destruction to come

a certain destruction to come

i have thrown my hands in the air a million times

expressing my frustration

pertaining the destructive propensities

of man

the war wages on

the once felt pains

the anguish i once bore

is not a numbed experience

i live just to feel

that occasional tingle

evidencing hope

i know, the logic is twisted

long lost brothers

whose Fathers were brothers as well

vying for their blood

to be spilled

that they may mix and dance

in the soils of anguish

of all the Mother’s tears

leaving a legacy

a lore

that the Children to come

yearn to exceed

more death

more destruction

i never did understand war

hate

bias

nor indifference

but through the years

i have used them as tools as well

i could blame it on

the conditioning

and my non seditious embrace of it

though i never quite acquiesced

the taste of it

there are countless Holocausts

and countless 911’s

that man has endured throughout the ages

that snuck in and out of the pages of history

with alias’ and pseudonyms

mindless megalomaniacal murderers

we call “Heads of State”

and other such lofty titles

think nothing of the common people

their homes

their families

their culture

their villages

nor their souls

maybe Clinton had the right idea . . .

i walk down the pathway of crumbled brinks

which used to be the street where i lived

where children once played

laughing and smiling

and offering to the universe

their glee

those precious moments

still live in me

for i was one of them

perhaps it is all in the growing up

it does come to fast

and then we are dead

just when we think we have a hold on it

life

i somehow sense there is a greater time to come

when we actually will

as an insensitive humanity

succeed

in our destructive proclivity

for our civility

is now held at ransom

by an economy and laws

that support our ultimate demise

don’t be surprised

when it was time for us to vote

we were either sleeping

or inebriated by our desires

for keeping up

with some proverbial Jones Family

and now, even the Jones are out on the street

begging for understanding

solace and peace

a job and a meal

even a Happy Meal will do

but even Ronald has been pimped out

turned out

just like us

funny the illness we have allowed

promulgated

to feed our children

is so mildly accepted

and we smile

in the face of the looming death

that encircles the globe

and our hearts

and our hopes

in truth i think that we do know

that death is a necessary journey

we must take

before resurrection

and in our own way

we welcome . . .

a certain destruction to come

© 10 June 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.