Black, blue and all the colors together,
Miles and meters could not take a measure,
The mystery so deep below,
No digging could make people know,
The crawlers, swimmers and the squishers of dye,
Under the blankets of waves they lie,
Loneliness never did they know,
Plastic adorned the green one low,
The oils and straws a part of their diet ,
It is becoming rather quiet,
Swimmers now floating,
Oh no !Are they evolving or Perishing.

Alone in my terminal
transformed by the scalpel
the mirror is my surgeon
and youth my captor
love is eternal
still, how can a heart be mended
if the demand is evergreen.

New Blithering is where I live,
Some laughs this burb does give,
You can buy plastic sheep here,
Do not know if they are dear,
In a store not far away,
Does a plastic sheep think our way?
Could it talk in an ovine way?
Indeed, what would a plastic sheep think and say?
"How did we all end up here anyway?"
"I guess we just did, okay!"
I assume a plastic sheep can think and say,
"I hope you have an awesome day!"

Loading up my black mirror Skinner box to feel connected

Growing in the recesses craft horrors have recollected

Knowing when the tendrils attach more ascend to deck and
Burrow with an aim to enact order and stay infected.

Preying on desire with cracked swords a solemn gesture
spills aboard aloft an impactful throne of sordid fester

None adorn a thwarting reaction as a suit of armor
Gunning for the floor the distraction of a warring vessel.

Thunder isn’t half of the problem pouring ocean water.
Nothing but an echo, the past it seems was scarcely special

Wonder if the grip will relax if I can paddle harder
Sunder every bridge in a gasp for the forgotten nestle

Covered up in plastic, ******* thinks he’s just a farmer
Wonder when the bones in my back will feed the mortar pestle.

Fumble with a weapon enraptured in the frozen water
Doesn’t change the fact that the ******* on another level

Drowned world
in a miasma of plastic.
I turn to love
is not just a flash
in the pan. I am moody walls
and stone borders,
eyes on the horizon,
the quickening ****** sunset.
I try to believe in some heaven
that I am here.
I should pay more attention.
I should bloom like a flower
underneath your sun,
rewarding you
with an infinite unfurling of petals.
The night need not crush.
It may reveal its stars.
The child brides’ shrieks
do not always
denote pain.

If the green grass wasn't washed up
                  on the shores of paradise.

I'd prefer to walk on the mud...

I began carrying my regrets with me,
stuffed into plastic bags.

A heavy drag on my shoulders,
handles digging into my palms.

At least it would be easy to suffocate myself with them.

Whilst the world wilts,
Sunshine dims,
River stills in between,
Winds are hurrying
The seasons are changing.

And we throw another plastic bag
We suffocate our lifestyle
Killing our species in style
Make it harder to breathe
Just the basic necessity of air.