the city

Catastrophe

I am a catastrophe,
a bomb ticking so fast you won't even have time to run.
There is nothing else for you to do but wait for the shrapnel and dust,
exploding all around you in a cloud of, well, catastrophe.

But I manage to disguise myself as a person,
with feelings and whatnot.
I slather lotion and makeup,
just to hide the terrible beast within.

I'm surprised people still love me,
because there is nothing left to love.
The rest of me dried up and died long ago,
and no matter how much you water scorched grass and withering weeds,
you will never make a garden re-grow.