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This photograph belongs to me and is taken from my Aunt Nadine's collection
A House Divided and Lincoln Logs
©12.30.2017, Olan Smith
Our powers grow in a collective,
This is what I believe Lincoln
Was trying say, also the
Creators of the Net hoped to unite,
Just allow the world
To communicate and even the old scars
Will fade. Instead old
Lacerations were opened and blood
Spewed instantly in zeros and ones,
As we rip the fabric of the old with
Our new world. Don't weep for me
I stood apart from the tear, but still I
Run from the torn edges of reality,
From the pealing edges of aged
Wallpaper, while rotted newspapers,
Stacked on the dusty floors,
Quote yesterday's news: "New War
Erupts in the Middle East." What
Happened to the wide-eyed enthusiasm
Of the internet provider's New Collective?
YOU ARE READING
Poems from the Quill, by Olan L. Smith
Poetry"Poems from the Quill" is where I place current works that don't fall into other collections. It is here you will find obscure poems that range from constraint to free-verse. I began this collection as a contest entry, years ago, for what was then t...
