Over epochs of time,
By apparent design,
Man cycles thru being, barbarous beasts.
To being better behaved at social feasts.
For short times, if it lasts at all,
Peace and quiet reigns tolerantly tall.
Abundance ‘n plenty for all ya all.
Meanwhile, enjoy the interrum ball.
Pregnant populations, punctuate the lands.
‘Tisn’t long ‘til hate ‘n envy, raises ugly hands.
Bounteous — booty-of-war, feeds that thirst.
The cry be: Blessed be! Or be thou cursed!
Kill the males —— impregnate the women.
But forbear, partaking of green persimmon.
Though, ‘tis the behavior of war-torn man.
To spread ‘n mix his seed, across the land.
Indigenous tribes, towns, ‘n nation-states.
Forever pushed ‘n pulled, meet their fates.
Stains — etched deep in human DNA traits.
Occupied or stolen ……. sets status strait.
NO nation, NO race —— has been exempt,
From Man’s voracious, cunning contempt.
NO one ………. can point-the-finger of blame ‘n shame.
Cause over time, we’ve all been immersed in that game.
–Poetry Prose by Pablo Tisch — ©2024
–Shared on Facebook
