After the Apocalypse
It was a Tuesday afternoon
Sunny, with a slight breeze
Only the leafy trees were rustling
Offices locked with many lost keys
Only took a second for the apocalypse
But it’s echoes will be heard throughout time
Poets and scholars writing up their versions
Whats it matter if it has a reason or rhyme
Everyone has a story of their hardship
Their own tragedies or woe
To them it’s the story of the century
To others it’s a few lines people just know
This poem will put those lifelines together
All those people joined by a single moment
The earth rocking on its ever turning axis
This massive and earth shattering event
The banker with money at her fingertips
Suddenly the world has no use for her
No debts for this expert to manage
Equal to her debt ridden customer
The King of a broken country
Sits on his gold shattered thrown
Dressed in the lands finest embroidery
His worthless power all he has ever known
The doctor who works all hours of the day
Stemming the tide of the rampaging sickness
With tools that wasn’t built to cope
Against a devastating and spreading global illness
The footballer once sold for tens of millions
Useless now with skills use to no man
Attracting the odd glance here and there
On equal footing now with the lowliest fan
The soldier with the highest honours gained
Sent to lead out the courageous troops
Overwhelmed by the human suffering on show
Now reduced to giving out cups of watery soups
The addict going cold turkey to survive
Seeing babies crawling on the ceiling
Laying on his lonely and broken bed
His body a mess but his mind healing
All these people, their lives upside-down
From one moment of utter madness
Planet earth shaken to its molten core
Millions of lives plunged into sadness
