Wasteland, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Wasteland

Wasteland

Herds of clouds travel by at sonic speed
Appearing to have meetings to attend
Never looking down at my drastic need
Lacking pity not a tear to expend

Once my fields produced many bumper crops
Filling the air with my sweet summer wheat
Now a flat arid brown mosaic corpse
Giving absolutely nothing to eat

Every living creature has moved away
Land lays barren totally depleted
As I had become greedy farmers’ prey
Alone now knowing that I was cheated

Will take generations my soil to heal
Then new farmers will come again to steal

Published by

bobsieczkiewicz

Husband, Father, Grandfather, Lover of all beautiful things. I love to read and write poetry. My favorite hangouts are libraries and museums and yet I love being outdoors. I am a dreamer of things that could be.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s