The Fate Of Man Poem by Heath Gunn
The Fate Of Man
A child is born into this world,
it's body bloodied, features knurled.
Unclothed, yet warm, he's wrapped in love,
from parents praying to God above.
To mould his life and make it good,
they hope he'll turn out as he should.
To triumph trials he'll face through life,
to grow and prosper, find a wife.
Settle down and raise a brood,
pass on his wisdom, lift their mood.
His heart is new, an open future,
no darkened thoughts of race or culture.
Nor nagging doubts of self esteem,
his life to mould round which he sees.
Childhood springs ahead full speed,
learn first to speak, then count and read.
Through teacher's words he finds his way,
developing, growing, everyday.
With friends and family all around,
he moves onto youth in leaps and bounds.
A darker force one day does call,
does he resist? or does he fall?
He stumbles under evil's power,
blinded by easy gifts it showers.
Seduced to darkness, midnight pranks,
breaking laws, his morals sank.
His parents, powerless over friends,
with whom more of his time he spends.
A grandious plan, all fraught with danger,
a notorious gang, led by a stranger.
Have lured him now to drink and drugs,
society spurned them, labelled thugs.
During nightime's ghostly span,
now not a boy, not yet a man.
He journeys out with nine or ten,
who just like him, believe they're men.
They steel two cars, all fuelled with hate,
then at high speed they ram the gate.
A Guard, a Father, raises up,
four bullets they send to his gut.
As he lies bleeding on the floor,
from the shadows step two more.
Armed with anger and with guns,
they open fire, thugs are stunned.
One car turns over on it's side,
all inside have lost their lives.
A frantic struggle to stop and run,
makes the boy stumble, dropp his gun.
His eyes wide open, full of fear,
bravado now replaced by tears.
Now running, running, can't look back,
he's hearing screams, and then a crack.
A bullet hits him, takes him down,
he's thrown face first onto the ground.
Writhing, bleeding, dying fast,
his life near gone, no future, just past.
As concious thoughts cloud up with black,
how he wishes he were back.
A child again with Mom and Dad,
when times were good, and fun they had.
Beside his grave they stand and weep,
and prey to God, his soul to keep.
A life cut short, on vicious streets,
the fate of man, that he did meet.
Heath Gunn
Heath, Very sad history-balada, let it will be a good lesson for those who it requires... The free will is the resolute moment in a life.... And so, the destiny looks us in eyes... 10... All kind, Tsira
This poem is heart wrenching. As a father, i have the understanding that there can be no bigger pain than of your children. A very fast and demanding life has left us with no other choice but to work more to make both ends meet, and spend less time with our children and family. The situation gets more complicated if both the parents are working. It is even worse in case of a single parent, mostly a woman, taking care of work and home e.g. kitchen, laundry etc. which leaves our children with nothing else, but a sense of neglect. Then come video games, television and movies which are mostly violent and glamorous, and are very harmful for these young minds. We think they enjoy watching it and therefore, are calm. But we tend to forget the fact that these elements will play a major role in making their psyche and personality. You have picked a very important topic Heath and done a complete justice with it. The issue really needs to be addressed on radical grounds so as to save our children and therefore, secure the future of the world. Please keep writing and sharing 10+++++++++
A powerful poem of a young unborn child, through his tormented life until the day he dies. One I'm sure that could be shared by many. A well worth read, Thanks for sharing
A very solid and thought-provoking craft full of first-class imagery, gets a reader involved all the way through and not a word is wasted here.Thanks for sharing, Heath! Amary.
OMG! ! ! i dont know what to say? ? this is such a great poem, you have really captured the story of a life gone wrong. and its spo well written, i love your style too, its like mine, this is how i think poetry should be written, easy to understand and to picture the words. a definate 10 =)
i think that ur poem is ace ive never heard a poem like it keep writing if you get the time could you read some of my poems and tell me what you think
Very nicely written, though it does go against one of my long-held beliefs; that people today are reflections of a combination those around them and the mental faculties which are predetermined to them. Thus, the 'I' we speak of (i.e. our soul) is enslaved to the gears of our common culture and our own predetermined eccentricities, never to really break free in this life. Perhaps the next, and it is for this reason I pray there is one. With my own opinions aside, this poem had quite a bit of depth to it, and this tragedy of constantly unacheived (or perhaps unrealized) dreams of today's people is certainly worth noting in these troubled times. On a lighter note, I literally ten seconds ago was handed my ACT score of 30 by my parents. Maybe good enough for Univ. of Michigan?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 5:31:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Great penned piece of wisdom here, Sir Heath! Keep writing from your heart and you will always be a winner in writing! God Bless, God's Servant, Linda