Poem: The Toxic


The Toxic

The thing is,
if you can’t see it,
you can’t see it.
and it will leak,
and they, the source,
will never see it,
left abandoned
in far away fields
slowly murdering
but them,
as God watches,
tears sliding down his cheek,
as he prepares
their final surprise.

About this poem

My mom used to say we’d all be surprised who we’d find in heaven or hell. Don’t know why that thought drifted into my head this morning.

I am reading too much news.

From those two things, this poem. The picture was taken from an abandoned factory in NH.


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