Man's Wrong

The final call echoes over the land

Plateaus of history stand still

Shreds of song remain silent

Piles of wisdon lay empty

Beings of life wander away

Bodies of calmness quicly escape

And man leaves another place dead

This poem is about: 
Our world

Comments

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 CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741