poetry by j matthew waters

a world goes round

gravitational forces
make the world go round
geometrically perfect
and mathematically sound
innocently conceived
of violent explosions

woe are the children
born into a whirlwind
of poverty and starvation
whose land neither spins
nor revolves with beauty
or compassion or truth

sad is the soldier
dying in a battlefield
dark clouds circling above
the beauty of the world
just a passing idea
taught in a classroom

man and his machines
compete for dominance
racing across the skies
and testing mother nature
with all the tangible wealth
this blue jewel can muster

august two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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