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

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