A Memento Of The Old World
Before all was destroyed by man
I’m standing in my new apartment, looking out the window
For as far as the eye can see, there are man-made buildings,
One level houses, three storey hotels, fifty floor office towers
Is it really worth the cost, even with all that trim and gilding?
***
There is not one ounce of greenery in sight, not even one
No plants, no lawns, no shady trees, no nature to be seen,
Just building after building or roads and tarmac’s galore
Plants removed, destroyed, no hint of where they’d been.
***
I turn away from the view, overcome with sadness, despair
What have we done to our world, is this our kids inheritance,
No more nature to enjoy, parks for leisure or trees to climb
Or do we excuse it, citing it’s necessary for our experiments?
***
I cannot look out the window anymore, not without the pain
I go back to my unpacking, placing books upon the shelves,
When I come across two miniature models I do so treasure
The last of their kind, glorious, so precious in themselves.
***
I’ve held these models for decades, to be passed to my heir
A memento of the old world, before man totally destroyed it,
When such things as a rainforest hike, a day on the beach
Skiing down a snow encrusted mountain, all as we saw fit.
***
I look down at my two hands, at the preciousness nestled
On each of my palms, gazing in awe and wonder for both,
One hand holds a miniature model of our precious world
And the other holds the rarity of a miniature tree in growth.
***
My future children will not know the world as it once was
These models are the closest they’ll ever get, so truly sad,
Man has made sure the soil is no longer fertile or enriched
And their destruction has made me so frustratingly mad!
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Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
If you enjoy this piece, you may enjoy this one too.
Originally posted on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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Excellent storytelling
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More stories from Colleen Millsteed and writers in Poets and other communities.
Vale Perficientur
"My tears need a minute to find the edges of my face. If you'll please excuse me." The sarcasm stabbed into Juliana’s heart. Antonia glared at her from the pit of the Lyceum as her student fought to hold back tears that had nothing to do with the pain in her fingers. “You’re better than this, again.”
By Matthew Fromm3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (10)
Terrific and thoughtful poem Colleen. Great work! 😊
Beautiful poem
written beautifully
Overlapping waves of beauty and sadness.
I read this the other day but didn't look at the name of the writer. I was called away to some other activity but said to myself when I find time, I want to read it fully again. I'm so glad I did. What a joy it is!!!!
This is spectacular. As David Thomas said below, I love how you showed us who we are thru the lens of your apartment window.
Congratulations on your Top Story! This is exactly what the future of Earth will be. Humans are the only species to lay to live on Earth as well as destroy it
This is fabulous, and sadly, so true
I love how authentic and detailed you were in talking about what you saw in your apartment.
Excellent poem Colleen and congrats on the Top Story. 🥰