'' That Would Be So Unforgiving '' Poem by Bri Mar

A fact of being,
Is one day you'll die,
Of that you can certainly be sure,
My soul it's freeing,
So, don't you cry,
As we speak, they are seeking a cure.

A cure for death?
They'd have you believe,
Would it end all our wordly ills?
No more last breath,
Nor the need to grieve,
An end to prescription pills.

Illness might end,
You'd live forever,
I'd have to ask, in what state,
Would it depend,
On what they sever,
As to what will determine your fate.

Despots and dictators,
Who cause so much strife,
Who's only desire is to kill,
Humanities traitors,
With eternal life?
Think of the blood they would spill.

Can you choose?
No more old age?
Which era would be the best time,
Do you win or lose?
As you turn the page,
As growing old becomes classed as a crime.

Over population,
Is killing us now,
If infinity was to really come true,
We'd face damnation,
No need to ask how,
I may well be stuck next to you.

A shortage of food,
And natural resources,
The water on Earth would stop flowing,
I'm not being rude,
But who enforces,
The rationing as we keep growing.

It's an impossible dream,
But the Human desire,
Is to experience eternal living,
A being supreme,
Who would never retire?

‘' That Would Be So Unforgiving ‘'