Poetry Drawer: Dust by Bruna Vitacca


You start your life in mud.

You craft and learn new tricks.

Your spirit’s born in blood;

You hunt with rocks and sticks.


The day you lost your primal gills,

You worked with tools, you played with fire.

Good manners, words, fine motor skills

All techniques you must acquire.


Many wars and treaties later,

Paint your present like a painter.

Now you’re ready, swap the cavern

For the plastic house with pattern.


Earthly treasures please your pocket;

There’s nothing you’d not buy.

Tricks and lies live in your locket

Play your cards until you die.


Conquer new worlds! Your greatest ambition;

Greeting the nations became your new vision.

You live among stars, within iron and steel,

Competing and beating to find the best deal.


Oh, great deceiver, stir up passions!

Steal their lands and rob them blind!

Power games will be old fashioned;

Schemes and scams left far behind.


Your barren earth expels formations,

None of them are God’s creations.


Too old to be human, too new to be rust;

Begin a new chapter before you are dust.



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