Critical, creative and digital writingEcriture critique, créative et numérique

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Cloud of shame

My feet splashed into a puddle of rain That was fed all morning, so insane, When mountains of clouds spat their disgust Of the human race into insulting gusts. Those clouds of shame, high as mountains, Scratched the ceiling of earth, causing pain To billions of organisms all linked in one fate, That of dying together; that is my state. I looked high, the highest I could, Yet I saw naught but arrows of water, Fatal weapons that soon drown us would, Before we switch our way of living much later. Now, listen, it's our shame we can avoid, But not without keeping on the path of void We have trodden, for without a reshape, The clouds of shame will flood our landscape.