Atlas Mucked

This poem was originally published on 5 August 2016.

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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