Another poem I found when trying to clean up the boxes in my study. When this is from, I'm not sure. It could trace back to high school, but it could be from later, college or my twenties.
The world is coming to an end
Some see natural catastrophe
of floods and fire, of earthquakes
and locusts as from long ago
They warn of the coming of the apocalypse.
As for survivors, only true believers need apply.
Some see doom in the rise of technology
and the fall of humanity.
Filth and pollution and environmental destruction
leave the world a decayed apple.
fit only for worms and other creatures
that thrive in the slime.
Others see the end as coming in man's aggressive toys.
Bmbs and germs and other things
that can make the world go boom in a press of a button.
They warn of the spread of this terror
to smaller countries and littler people.
Pompous dictators and idealistic revolutionaries dying to start the war
no one will survive.
Others close their eyes to the coming doom
And choose t olive out their lives in blissful ignorance
consuming themselves into oblivion.
Some even preach the gospel of hope,
that man can conquer any problem
and the end is only the fantasy of gutless doomsayers.
But I, just like the small boy
on his first roller coaster ride at the amusement park,
only want a hand to hold
during the rocky ride.
