Slice of Earth

Slice of Earth

She moans and cries and slowly dies, in the arms of a lonely stranger
That boy as well thinks he’s in hell, nothing now can save her.
She woke up that day in a different way to that of any other
Destruction bloomed with people doomed, she’s crying for her mother.
The Sea’s attack made him lose track of how long she had wailed
The wave had blown, tossed and thrown, left the girl impaled.
So he tried his best, put heart to test, freed her from that place
As her cries ceased soul left to peace, tears ran down his face.

And for all around, from sky to ground you can feel their pain
Hear those sounds in demolished grounds, nations scarred and slain.
Cars left in trees, boats under seas, homes torn and swept away
Of all I’ve read, No place has bled, like that slice of Earth that day.
It lined the streets of lost heart beats, a place of death and gore
He cried so shrill and wept until, he could mourn for them no more.
It had been so fast, turned into past, swept right through the land
What had remained, left the people pained, most could barely stand.

There are wrecked hotels and ghastly smells, life itself has drowned
Under debris, the ears can see people trapped underground.
Swept into cracks, of tsunami acts children hushed by water
The boy still lingers counts on fingers visions of the slaughter.
I sit at home and feel less alone than I did not long ago
I look at that guy, looking at the sky, all on my TV show.
More than he seems: me in my dreams, I’m there in that place
So when I awake my hands still shake sweat beaded on my face

Nightmare at most, just a ghost of what might have been disaster
So I get out of bed my mind instead focused on a shower,
But when the water runs, it feels like tons, can I trust it still?
I close my eyes, my ears, their cries and feel the water spill,
Cold and wet, I can’t forget the feelings of that illusion,
I smell the stench, feel myself wrench left in my confusion.
So I get dressed dry and depressed go out turn on TV
Hands are blurs they’re just like hers, the reporter that I see.

Quake’s death toll out of control sweeps across southern Asia
Sorrow of man starts from Thailand and flows out to Malaysia
Shan’t sleep again, or destruction pend, I only see the bloodshed
With eyes shut and wide, pictures confide into eyelids instead
Six digits there, for cash you spare, start another birth
To un-desolate and recreate that ill-fated slice of earth
Bands will play, time melts away, and millions will be funded
Send money bricks, stones and sticks disasters plan be plundered!

I stare appalled; at what they called the catastrophe of the ages
Something retold, that can’t get old, printed on histories pages
I remember me, in that sorry scene, bags with plastic guises
News tells the world, bout orphaned girls of all shapes and sizes
So I turn on Word and from all I’ve heard write about the lot
They’ll get my gift, help buildings lift, while this poem will rot
I just don’t care, these words I’ll spare more than I’d spare change
One day they’ll see, this thing from me, they might not feel that strange
It’s a hope of mine; less defined then millions of dollars there
These words will weep and dreams will keep all the things I spare

From the Mind Of Jarryd Williams