how the world ends

the world ends in fire or ice,
except that’s garbage, metaphors
to lessen your guilt, to sound wise

the world ends like this, a communal hatred spreading like miasma,
like plague, do you have the bird mask, rattling with fragrance, to cover your faces?
do you have enough privilege to stand on the bodies of the dead
and pretend graveyards are beautiful, solitary places?
the world ends with agendas
of those that can afford to terraform
the world ends with them standing on noah’s ark
and watching us drown
Who was the creator of this flood?

the world ends in injustice,
an entire system made by those that have never known, what it means to starve,
and truly starve—intermittent fasting—aside
breaks upon the heads of the poor,
killing, sweeping, so many in it's tide
until their deaths get just a 2x2 box in your newspaper
pile their bodies—and maybe they'll fill your empty skyscrapers

the world ends with children dying,
the price of those lives is oily,
guns blooming like wildflowers, air raids are their festivals,
the heaviest chains in their world
are not iron linked,
after all they now have more sophisticated shackles in trafficking
the statistics do lie,
your grandmother never could report that she didn’t want to have
ten kids,
there’s bruises on that women’s eye,
Her makeup is expensive, Givenchy, Saint laurent.
there’s people in your sewers who hold their breaths
longer than guinness world record champions
safe at your home, miracles await your exit
a cardboard flying by your window, is
someone’s four walls

the dichotomy is so vast
incomprehensible almost
wealth that could save nations,
single hands have amassed
this is an apocalyptic world
but when have we ever known something otherwise
because only in pretty poems do the ends of the world happen in fire or ice,
you'd never notice, but the conditions for a collapse have been long since suffice
a slow creeping sickness in shaky foundations
the world doesn't end with a bang,
it doesn't go with a whimper
it goes,
filled with screams that don't make a ripple in your indifference
the world ends with,
here's your answer:
—wilful ignorance.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem