Atlas Mucked

I stumbled across an atlas,

And gazed just for a while.

The only distinctions –

Shades of blue, green, and white.

 

I found an old globe,

An inflatable one.

As kids we used to play with it –

A ball we bounced for fun.

 

But surprise, surprise,

When I took a look at the world,

Tangled in its own web –

I saw billions of kids,

With packs of crayons,

Scribbling everywhere.

 

The old globe’s deflated;

It lies in a crumble,

Unfairly stained and torn.

With a sigh, and a last gasp,

For a breath of the past,

It was now a relic worn.

 

For I, too, had chucked it,

Into a box of old stuff,

With blu-tack and cheap sellotape.

And ironically, those are not things,

We can turn to,

To fix our mistakes.

 

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