The Worlds Fate Poem by Joshua Mckee

Often times, I sit and wonder,
How long this world must suffer.
Must we continue in an endless plunder?
Then have people die by the number?

Day by day it seems to me,
That a new world is just a dream.
From the water we drink to the air we breathe,
It seems like nothing is ever really clean.

Three people have made this world go awry.
Three people! This is no lie.
The three people that make me cry,
Are simply named Me, Myself, and I.

These three are the Rulers of the world.
They just took it, and gave it a twirl.
What they’ve done makes my heart curl.
Oh how I weep for our lost world.

These three have the power,
To make even grown men cower.
Every tree and every flower,
They see it all, and all they devour.

They’ve gathered an army, full of power and might.
So strong, so swift, people run and hide.
But no, not me, I’ll stand and fight.
Because I know that it ain’t right.

Just me alone will take a stand.
Then someone will come and hold my hand.
Then one by one people will understand.
Then their fates only they command.

Slowly the Rulers wrath will end.
To the gates of Hell, we will send.
But the question I ask, as I end,
Is simply, “When people? When? ”