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You look at me as if I am inhumane

You ponder your thoughts on why I am of use to you

You see me dead in the eye and cut me open

I cannot breathe

I cannot speak 

I have no voice

I am not heard.

 

You bring me to your lair in which I look and see my family

My friends 

All of my happiness, you have detonated.

 

Now here I am,

The last of my kind,

That you have ruined.

 

You walk outside and see the darkness left behind,

The one thing you did not ruin.

 

But now the voices inside your head assure you that now you are nothing but more than dead.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Our world
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