08-13-2006, 07:55 PM
Having long desired to contribute something to this movement, I decided to write some poetry dealing specifically with issues facing this community.
The last of her kind
She lay unconscious on her bed,
the last remaining of her kind.
“Her time has come”, the doctor said
Those gone before and left behind
will all fall silent when she dies,
the last remaining of her kind.
They had been taken by surprise:
their culture and their modes of speech
will all fall silent when she dies.
They ought to have been asked to teach
the ignorant and frightened mass
their culture and their modes of speech.
A few had sought it and alas,
a lot of people wished for it:
the ignorant and frightened mass
The vigil candle was not lit,
she lay unconscious on her bed.
A lot of people wished for it.
“Her time has come”, the doctor said.
The last of her kind
She lay unconscious on her bed,
the last remaining of her kind.
“Her time has come”, the doctor said
Those gone before and left behind
will all fall silent when she dies,
the last remaining of her kind.
They had been taken by surprise:
their culture and their modes of speech
will all fall silent when she dies.
They ought to have been asked to teach
the ignorant and frightened mass
their culture and their modes of speech.
A few had sought it and alas,
a lot of people wished for it:
the ignorant and frightened mass
The vigil candle was not lit,
she lay unconscious on her bed.
A lot of people wished for it.
“Her time has come”, the doctor said.