I was a man of industry

Wrought iron bars towards the distance

Eden was promising company

Reapers mowed through the gardens

Heavenly light begged for shadows

Peter sang out, "efficiency"

Indeed the fine print was voided

Black ink colored salvation

Could you compete with endless distraction

Bullish dreams, steam power, hot air

Golden keys veiled as questions

And synaptic locking mechanisms

Gates above ring when you hit them

Harmonize, but never open

Coasting on, riding in deference

Blood doesn't know, blissed ignorance

Gates above ring when you hit them

But never open

This poem is about: 
Our world


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741