Wrinkling World Poem by john wake

Wrinkling world,
Pleasant and kind
Tell the tale to tell as told
In book of life, I cannot find

My bio-clock bizarre,
Out-of-place
Time to-late-to trace

Where you are
Was as a dream, I wished
But wakened, by wars
Blood, baths of mad men
Mask most..
The tears
Fears.

Children’s will
Is now ill.
Yes, I agree
It has fled,
Neither free
Nor in their heart or head.

Impatient nation
Your notion accepted
But change chased, comes in a slow motion
And waiting, we drowned
The hours
With walking, talking
Zombies in zoos
Our zeal exhausted in fighting,
Fleeing too

Waiting for change,
As she comes of age.