What a shame that the world has cracked 

like an egg dropped by God’s hands,

the ocean spilling out through the crevices

like tears of wounded hearts and of hands

that have given up.

 

What a shame that we have not bothered

to pick up the pieces and tape 

them back together, until we can see

the picture of what it had once been before.

 

And what a shame that we let

lands rise up in flames, that we let

the sky become dark enough until we can no longer

even discern the mistakes we made, so we never

bother to fix them.

 

Perhaps we destroy ourselves to

let the world continue to change, 

to let future generations know 

not to make the same mistakes

we so carelessly had - but they then continue the cycle.

 

What a shame that we must kill ourselves

to feel alive, that we must destroy others

to assert our dominance. What a shame that

our blue planet has turned red,

that our cloudless skies have turned grey,

and that our painted smiles have faded.

 

We count on God’s nimble hands

to pick up the pieces, but perhaps

He has grown just as weary as us.