PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Steal beams,

Rising to the sky.

Stone walls,

Knocked to the side.



Ruins of our time,

What will they be looking at in the future?

What will become the Coliseum of our time?

The circus maximus of modern day.

What will be our greatest achievement?

And what will be our downfall.



For soon we shall be history,

Black print,

In the pages of textbooks,

For the future to read.

Will we kill ourselves in wars?

Kill each other out of spite?

Or die in our own hate?



Are we destined to live?

Or destined to kill ourselves?



Who knows?

For that is not for us to worry,

We will be gone before it occurs.

In 80 years from now should be of importance.

Because it will be 100 years past my birth.

Should I live that long,

The short stint of life,

What will change?

What will "us" old people think about the world?



Times will change,

And humans trudge on.

Will people change?

Or will views remain the same.

Hard to tell,

Most don't think.

Yet some must know.

For what will be our ruins,

In 1000 years from now?