steve a. manolis poet

Progress of Man

 

 

Progress, the machine rolls downhill
Plugging away at every corner
Humanity's destiny is spat out
Civility has become a cruel joke.

 

Some semblance sought
Yet the cries vacate our hearts
The crud knows no borders
Lives are at stack and nothing matters

 

Our last breathe is still waiting
Choking on the sorries of yesterday
There are no nations, there are no heroes
Our lasting vestige is our own silence