Conflicts rampant in the world,
musty tombs fill quickly; tales,
rhymes of the times, repeat of
ancient crimes. Vanity, regret,
no joy, plagues fester from hate;
fools come in the night, rob virgins
of their innocent light; children
unable to live their lives. Women
fair in looks, proud, hear their
laughter, jaded, men chase after!
The aged they smile, sing a little
ditty, old and forgotten…what a
pity. Moralized and wise, sneer as
you may, their looks have faded away.
Their life of treasures lay in wait for
the vultures; respect the elderly…lost
in future culture. Marble slabs rolled
back, the open earth consumes, fear,
death and then the tomb.
©2014.thenthetomb.annjohnsonmurphree
ann johnson-murphree 
This is an amazing poem, Ann! So helplessly perceptive. Must be so difficult for you to go outside . Still, tranquility is tough to come by indoors too! What a good poem! “Then the Tomb”
LikeLike
I tried to choose a particular line that sang to me…couldn’t separate…all of it sings and glides…albeit sad.
LikeLike
Yes I know…I have several pieces that are to be read non-stop much like the reading of hard hitting poetry in the twenties and thirties. Your reading was correct no deffinent breaks. Then I was pleased with your comment of “sings and glides” and yes a sad story. R you critique was greatly appreciated; helps me in my continued journey into poetry. Ann
LikeLike
Bleak but real in existential sense
LikeLike
Thank you Carl
LikeLike