The Plague

The plague is eating at us!

Clutching at our lungs,

Shriveling up our tongues,

Yet the most that we

observe is the fungi

lingering between every toe.

Our body stinks of vomit,

as our hearts struggle to

get in their last beats,

and all of our muscles

are screaming, "Please. No

more. Please!" 

People noticing even only

the fungi are starting

to worry; the malady

to which we gave birth,

and nurtured, not once

realizing,  

all of the pain it

has brought. But even now,

as science races to

find the curing antidote,

it may already have

spread to far to stop,

without a little help,

from those who it was 

originally wrought.

Kill it at it's source-

pollution, the breeding-pool

of our ever symptom

and woe. Even if only

when we come across it,

and use the trash bin

rather than our neighbor's lawn

we can help the rush

for the antidote lessen.

 

 

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world

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