The Lost Generation

We are heltering towards oblivion
Like an out of control, run-down bus
Whose brakes no-longer work as they should.
Heading for the cliff, we see it as it approaches,
But we cannot apply the brakes hard enough
Or quick enough to avert our doom.
Fear not for the earth, for what is 3 million years
Of a life that runs into billions?
She will survive our folly and remake herself,
With or without our presence.
But what of her most foolish children?
Perhaps we might save ourselves yet
As our darkest hour approaches.
While there is life there is hope,
We must keep on trying, until our last breath,
And never give up.

Luke Eastwood is a horticulturist and writer based in Ireland. Read other articles by Luke, or visit Luke's website.