Disease Poem by Robert Dieterle II
Disease
Somber waves of gray,
Not yet touched by the rays of day,
Fills her heart with sadness,
As she struggles with the madness,
Of an ever growing presence,
Of people all around.
Even underground they seep,
Into space and in the water.
Everywhere she sees the garbage,
Of savages too caught up in thier exsistence.
Yet nature offers no resistance,
And she endures thier disrespect,
With the stocism of a statue.
Untill finally a day dawns,
And with it spawns,
A new disease,
Or is it a cure?
To fight the disease,
Of the human bieng.
There is no excuse for this. We are not illiterates here and one ought to be able to expect a minimum standard. H
I like the poem.as far as the spelling, who cares.nice job.also, herbert you look at the way its written, not the content................
Perhaps the poem would be enjoyed by some, but the big let-down is the bounty of spelling errors. H
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/17/2024 10:52:58 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I would like to apologize first of all. Herbert was bieng honest, there is no excuse for the spelling errors, just a lack of concentration.