PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Rhetoric


Brace we must for man-made fire, for arrogant minds are fuel to anger born decades ago; this trivial pursuit to erase a foe whose own dilemmas are a representation of cruel fate are nothing more than an impish desire. A call to arms may raise a flag; a call for peace denotes a drag of sustainability in the world. I heard the news today, oh boy; it seems that we have nothing to lose by stopping what can be stopped. But we have everything to lose by playing with our grownup toys; a sly connotation begins to uncurl. Is this really our try at peace? or is this just a chance to cease what has been long standing monotony? Did someone get bored in their lavish office; did someone see the people were too down on themselves? 'Oh, the people, the people; we live to drown them in their own misery. We gain to profit.' The monkey-suited monkeys smile while the people prepare to fear lobotomy.
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.