We mourn the death of the forest universal

The town outside my window moans.
We mourn not for the death of Industry
Nor for the ghost of the English gentle men
We lament for the stars that have been hidden from gazers.
We lament for dead rats trapped electronic cages.
Have we learnt nothing through the ages?

We mourn the death of the forest universal
We mourn the death of culture as media vultures
Prey upon the minds of the young.

Outside the rain takes its toll upon the pavement
Washing away the reminents of Autumns presence.
He awaits in hibernatuin, a soul ready for consideration.
I dreamt last night of a gleaming crown, An Angel
Came forth to say. ‘Embrace the child don’t shoot her down,
Make love throughout the day.

poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!