The world is huge and rather strong;
we all know this, but everything must have a bending, tipping, snapping, breaking point.
When will it happen
and what can the people standing around do to prolong the wait for this major paroxysm?
What measures would you take to save the world from ourselves?
Will it begin with
a touch
a word
a picture
a photo?
Or rather
a poem
a song
a lyric
or a simple stanza?
-lilxerica
after the rain.
beauty is left.
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