Poet#11 - "Untitled"

In the Gulf they found a flood of fuel that’s flowing from a fissure.
Fishermen are frightened for the fissure’s getting bigger.
The fish asphyxiate and faint, stiffly flipping over.
Finches flap but fail to fly and fall into the river.

They fear the folly from the firm is physically unfixable.
And for the folks who fight the filth it’s frankly unforgivable.
For even if the firm confirms in fact the fluke’s been foiled,
The flora and the fauna flecked with fossil fuel are spoiled.

If we forget our failures, we forsake our family’s future.
Let’s force ourselves to focus on our foolish fallibility,
followed by the fixing of our ways-
Lest again our fortunes float away.

The End

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