Someone Do Something

The black villain slips ‘round the Gulf

Riding on the currents blown by the wind

Knowing soon...that it can slide in

The birds and fish will surly die

The fishermen’s hungry children cry

Pristine sands whisper, “Why?”

There will be death in the land and air

What if anything...can ever stop it

Willie just sighed and cut his hair

©June 23, 2010

Faye Sizemore