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.