The world as it might be.
Rusted truck
The day the world went mad.
The day we ran out of oil.
It was day just like this one,
A day full of madness and toil.
First there were high prices
Then rationing of the fuel.
The people decried that government
Was making them feel like a fool.
The army tried to quell the unrest
But it was no match for the madness.
Still the pain it inflicted
Spawned much hatred and sadness.
Then a great leader proclaimed:
“I can fix this issue.”
But all he had was graft and lies:
A house of cards and tissues.
Civilization ceased having meaning
Truth and justice went down the drain.
Militia’s came out, guns about
And that’s when the world went insane.
And to this day, no one can say
Who committed the bigger sin –
Those who started the dying now
Or those who failed back when.
Back when they had the chance to save
Some for the next generations,
They used it all up instead
As if it were their only libation.
I write this by dying fire light,
Scribbling on old yellow paper.
Some day you may still read it
Or it may have crumbled into vapor.
–photo and poem by David E. Booker
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