The World Inside
2021
The snow gently falling
On an idyllic little town
No harsh wind or rain,
Just the white powder on the ground.
The world outside – it’s bigger,
Probably better, but who knows.
Though all places have their flaws
This one seems to have very few.
The world suddenly trembles –
could it be an earthquake?
No, simply the giants’ hands outside,
And the flakes fall again as if on a ride.
The burning sky, rain
Of metal and fire and acid.
This ‘perfect’ world is crumbling because
of what humanity has done.
They’re burning, hiding
alone in their houses,
Leaders who damned them now quietly shunned.
But the world within knows nothing.
Ignorance is bliss
Rings true in this hollow place
The giants are dead and the snow is settled,
Into pale mounds on the ground.
The little people know not of the giants’ fate.
Perhaps they just think the snow is late.
A burning pile of rubble, bricks and mortar;
Or a world ignorant to what goes on outside.
If asked to choose what fate one wants,
Perhaps select the orb, where they still
Peacefully reside.
It’s been years now, and
The snow’s still not come.
Perhaps the giants are gone or
Have found something more fun.
It will never snow again,
precious orb of glass.
So fragile yet it’s still there
when the ‘giants’ breathe their last.