Richard Pierce

Poetry, Politics

The Order Of Things

And now the world is at the stage
Where we can’t say
The sun will rise tomorrow
Nature will have its way
Everything will be alright.

Humankind has brutalised this place
With wars and technology and plastic
With heat and hate and haste
With the tyranny of the ignorant
And the pride of unjust victors.

The sun sets and rises through dusts
Of polluted air and the smoke of
Confrontation, the winds blown off course
By massacred jungles, plains of desert
Where trees were and water flowed.

A city for ten thousand villages
A tyrant for ten million cheated votes
One big lie trumps a billion small truths.
They cannot see the end, the liars,
The only ends are their own.

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