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Cleaning Up (standard:poetry, 94 words)
Author: Reid LaurenceAdded: Jun 16 2010Views/Reads: 1505/0Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Tragic cycles of time seem to be an imprint of humanity...

What a riot 

This thing we call 

The thing to do 

In case we all 

Have little use 

For me, for you 

What a shock 

To wake to find 

So many gone 

And left behind 

Repeated hate 

In cycles time 

Again, again 

In life unkind 

There is no peace 

To some this world 

Has offered none 

But smell of blood 

A cursed group 

On rampage run 

What a crime 

And lust for it 

In all our time 

Who pays for it 

Who will say 

I'm sorry to 

Will it matter? 

For me, for you


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