The Old Monsters
Waiting for all the old monsters to dieIt always takes too long
New ones have hatched to take the place
Of what was always nothing more
Than mortal frailty at best and worst
NOW nothing more than Digital Din drones on and on
Damping out any hope of natural air
Like vast hives of insect life linked by the honey
Of info dope
Casting off into what is forever unknown
Daily digging out our eyes with the fingers of past ghosts
Screams in heart and soul dying
It always takes too long
Waiting for all the old monsters to die
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2021-06-28 at 23:36
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