Treasure Island

Mary Rowena


New Nature


What room do I have in life left for greed?
When I’m content with just the blood I bleed
The light reveals I’m blessed with gold I wear
Yet water shows I’m beautiful when bare

I know I take for granted luxuries
But what could beat the clouds, the stars and trees?
When one takes time to climb up with their eyes
They notice all the boxes aren't a prize

Who made sense of a mirror in the dark?
Insanity chose pixels over bark
Of course I like to capture paradise
But not when it moulds minds to melt the ice

A child will have a child who will soon die
By then what we've achieved won’t satisfy
We search for something that we have acquired
And think because of time it has expired

Submitted: Thursday, August 08, 2013
Edited: Monday, April 28, 2014

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Topic(s): natural disasters

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  • John Westlake (4/27/2014 2:51:00 PM)

    Very true indeed. Can not understand why I am the first to comment on this wonderful poem (Report) Reply

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