There was a poem long forgotten without a name
Which grew in the cracks of walls and our pain
It grew from hard work blood sweat, tears and toil
But then they made into oil to lubricate the man made machine
So the poem was lost to only those who dream
But dream we still will
For the time is coming when the machine will be forced to stay still
It cogs will no longer turn
The fires and the flames will no longer burn
and so won’t turn the pistons
the microchips will no longer
have the power to calculate, computerise and mechanise the masses
no longer will we wear rose tinted glasses
no longer will noxious gases be funnelled into the atmosphere
adding to greenhouse we created out of fear
greed and capitalist need to consume
in the gloom of our short term existence
no longer will be able to live out this lie
our lives never given a reason why
because I found the title of the poem and it was called hope
and while it breathes we all may cope
but if it dies everything will stop
and the world will cease in Armageddon flames
but like a phoenix it will rise again from the ashes
free again to roam
because no one can use hope for the own ends.

I hope you enjoy this poem!

Its a very nice poem , enjoyed reading it so much. thanks