These people, they dont live here,
They use it like the sun,
And with their trigger on the gun,
She sulks away in a bloody strife,
As every mammal loses life,
Taking solace in being alone…
These people, they live in their phones
Unaware of the darkening skies,
Constructing whatever lies
Lay their fragile heads to sleep,
As the moon will gently weep
For love and life will disappear.
The older folk that live here,
The few and far in-between,
Look on with eyes obscene
At what has come of their town:
As a war vet has learned to frown.
The people here live in their minds,
In memories of times so kind.
For sense in what has gone wrong
No poet could recite in song,
So they lay their head to sleep.
With eyes swollen they quietly weep,
For soon their world will disappear.