I’ve looked outside for years,
Watching what happens beyond the walls of this house.
Seeing storms get stronger.
Watching weather get more unpredictable.
Crying as creatures die, forever.
Those who are older are here with me.
They sit as I scream.
They say I can’t go outside.
The walls will protect us, they say, plus, it’s not getting worse.
It’s your imagination, child, go out and you’ll get hurt.
But I can help, I say, I can stop this madness!
But they stay stuck in their belief, as unmoving as a rock.
So, I sit too, still looking out.
But slowly, they fade, and their words mean less.
Then slowly, I stand and look at them.
They are faded and gray.
And they look back in defeat.
I look down at them in pity
Then go to step outside.
I open the door made of ignorance
And step on a porch made of hope.
I look back at the house and see that it is fake:
Shingles made of doubt and a foundation made of talk.
I look away and see others,
People who have also left their houses-
People who have enough hope and grit to fix things.
We are the new generation.
We’ve inherited the world.
- Author: CreativelyUninspired ( Offline)
- Published: April 23rd, 2023 22:33
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this ages ago in a highschool poem contest for some money and I actually won second place and a crisp $250
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
Comments3
But are you committed to your words here? A really old guy like me needs to invest some hope in you.
Enjoy your stay at MPS. An interactive site, it works best when poets respond to others work and reply to commentary on their own poetry.
I wrote this poem back when I was a freshman in highschool. I didn’t know what I was going to do with my life then, but now, as a soon to be graduating senior, I have it figured out and I can say, with full honesty, that I am committed to these words. I’m going to college next year to become a wildlife conservation biologist in the hopes that I can preserve and enhance the nature we have left.
I would hope you would also fight the causes, politically, which have and are the cause of the diminution of that nature.
Good luck on your journey.
It has s factor of encouragement that speaks
insightful commentary
and a thought provoking read
thanks for sharing
('Shingles made of doubt
and a foundation made of talk.'
a generational, shared ill-fate
repeated, in every generation
inheriting, a 'foundation-less'
legacy
but, entrusted to curate and build
a stable future
for humanity to progress? on a dying planet
that catch-22
where idealistic fervency, masks
our inherited fallacy)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.