Perhaps Then

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Then when after the shots are fired,

The young, the valiant, all have died,

And the old and frail and the witless

Have made for them their graves,

Perhaps then.

 

Then when the air is clogged like snot,

And earth is piled with filth and rot,

And waters all, both near and far,

Become thickened like roofing tar,

Perhaps then.

 

Then when our hate for one another,

Leaves nary a friend nor brother,

And not a soul is left to care,

When fear is rampant everywhere,

Perhaps then.