A future possibility.
3000 A.D.
The misshapen caveman slept
And dreamt of flying machines moving to and fro in
The sky. He heard sirens blaring
Screaming people, with expressions of stark terror,
Etched on their faces
Running hither thither for safety
As tall steel-glassed structures
Crumbled, destroying all beneath
He saw a vehicle hurling towards him
And he awoke with a piercing scream that echoed
Through the cold, dank cave
And wondered where the dream came from
Later that day, as he was on a hunt for food, which
was very scarce
He kicked over a rusty metallic object lying in the
burnt out grass
Taking it up, he looked at the strange markings on it
turning it around and about in his hands.
Being unable to read, he threw it away in disgust
And continued on his hunt.
The markings read in a faded script:
Donated by the Red Cross Society USA
20 / 5/ 2050.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem