Voluntary Genocide for friend Tate

narrative verse rhyming quatrains in iambic pentameter

 

Voluntary genocide

 

The shrill wind whistles through at will.

The remnants of venetian blinds.

The rooms inside are tainted still

with viruses of different kinds

 

All tailor made which were designed

 To only kill selectively

The product of a mad mans mind.

A plan which backfired tragically.

 

He was convinced he had the right

 to alter mankind’s destiny

That everyone who was not white

 should be destroyed efficiently.

 

His master plan was to erase

 all non white populations.

And thus provide more living space

for go ahead Caucasians.

 

Now he is dead with all the rest

of mankind both black and white

Perhaps it worked out for the best.

There are no humans left to fight.

 

The whole world is free from wars

The only killing is for meat

 and that by natures predators.

Who have no choice they have to eat.

 

The human race which killed for sport

Has had its day and left the stage

It failed to satisfy the court.

Maturity would come with age.

12/08/2009

http:// blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

Reviews

[Tate Morgan]

HAHAHALOL I give this a 100!!!!!!