The war was hard
It destroyed it all
The few left in the world live on
Mostly Scavengers, hunters, or thieves
Just trying to survive And rebuild
As I wonder I stop and write
On notebooks or scraps of paper I find
Little notes, poems, or jokes
Those that remember life before the war
Travel from town to town
Spinning tales for those to hear
Though few we are
Some of us still remember
Happy days
Groovy days
Before the collapse of it all
The economic downfall
Then the war
Every state for themselves
Then invading nations attack
An already torn country
Do we stop our fighting
To rally against a foreign foe
Not at all
So Each state was attacking ever other state
As well as the foreign invaders
The fighting
The invading foreigners
The economic downfall
It all piled up
And destroyed everything
Postwar
Old life gone
Trying to hang on
As we adapt to the way it is
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Author:
Tony36 (
Offline) - Published: August 21st, 2024 07:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: GenXer Shamrocker ☘️
Offline)
Comments6
Literal a post apocalyptic disaster and in metaphor we all live it as yesterday falls into the past and we try to make the best of what remains
Thank you
A powerful write Tony
Thank you
Powerful work. Excellent.
Thank you
Powerful penning poet,
stunning imagery, thoughts
and message so
eloquently penned my friend! 👍
Thanks for sharing!!! 🙏
Best regards ✌️ Thad
Thank you
The iron is starting to melt! Is the wheat being sorted from the chaff?
Thank you
Pondering an all too possible apocalypse, I can seriously appreciate this. Nice work.
Thank you
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