The Mean

Out of control and on the edge
Staring out over the ledge

Ready to make a running leap
A bunch of lemming sheep

Just because death is better
A species way under the weather

And we fall onto that rock
Halting the living clock

This is heard in the tales
Of each life that is derailed

A species craving some death
Little by little, the growing pest

At some point, humans go extinct
Inside of a simple cosmic blink

But that doesn't stop the mean
Dirtied by living, can't come clean

A common point we all know
There is no kind of afterglow

We'll disappear, all self-induced
We are addicted to the abuse

There is no kind of antidote
Just an existence minus hope

Say goodnight to the human race
The concluding remark, the final case

Reviews

[Abd-afeez]

Exactly just what must be preached. Human race is on the path to peril, and right now all we need to do is change our course. This is passed a wonderful message, thanks for sharing.

[Coyote Poetry]

Funny thing about this poem. Human race is on the road to destruction. Crazy countries with nuclear warheads aiming at their neighboring countries. Weapon with a 40 mile instant kill and a 80 mile slow death would effect them too.
"There is no kind of antidote
Just an existence minus hope"
The old joke was USA had enough weapons to destroy the world 400 times. Funny part of the 400 number. Take only a few nuclear bombs to do us in. What is the purpose of the 399? A powerful poem. Made me think. I pray the human race is not dumb enough to start a nuclear war. There will be no winners. A true ending to a outstanding poem.
Coyote