Four Nine One Three

Where will mankind be

in the year four nine one three,

alive, full of glee?

 

Zagar and Evans,

year forty-five forty-five,

man is lacking eyes

 

Machines rule the roost,

humanity gives them boost,

copper top cooked goose

 

Or we are the same

as we always were, beings

that buried the game

 

and embraced the shame

of our disgusting habits

and abhorrent ways

 

If we stay the course,

we fall down, the broken horse,

death without remorse

 

Should have tuned into

Mother Earth, she knows the score,

our actual worth

Reviews

[Mockingbird]

if humans continue on that down slope of dehumanization maybe it's better that the machines rule the roost. otherwise as the generations come down it may be inevitable that we abuse the earth and give into our debaucheries resulting in the human race destroying itself. thought-provoking. sounds like a story out of vonnegut.

[Kenneth The Poet]

Thank you much, Mockingbird.