Spiritual and Inspirational poetry that touch the heart and soul, and provoke the mind.
“Help! Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!” “Roger. Could you give
us your position, Sir?”
“Oh, I’m afraid it’s very grave — there is such a
haze, and all seems a blur.
Acrid smoke has been filling up inside, and I'm really in a
quite stew,
For I’m having such trouble breathing, and I just do not know
what to do.”
“Roger. Can you not contain it?” “No, I’m afraid I can't,
as it's pouring in.
I have a loss of power as well, and oxygen is becoming thin.
Oh dear, I'm feeling very poorly, as this smoke has a horrible
smell,
And it feels like it's badly attacking every organ and fragile
cell.”
“Roger. You'll have to fight it, Sir, and we'll do our very
best to help you,
But speaking rather frankly though, there's really not a lot
that we can do,
For I am afraid that in the end, Sir, it will have to come down
to you,
Therefore, you will have to get a grip, Sir, and do whatever you
can do.”
“Oh, my head is feeling very foggy, and I'm coughing badly
also,
And hence why my thinking and actions are quickly beginning to
slow.
Yes, I'm feeling so indecisive, for it has taken a hold of me,
And it seems that I'm losing control — I’m rather
spaced-out and headachy.”
“Roger. Try and hold on, Sir, for we're getting a better
picture now,
However, it's still somewhat hazy though, but we will get there
somehow.
It's very clear that you’re being poisoned, Sir, infiltrated
chemically,
And therefore, it's hardly any wonder that we’re hearing your
urgent plea.”
“Yes, things are certainly very grim, and a way out
difficult to see,
Hence why I'm hoping that you'll find an answer, as I need one
urgently,
For it appears that I'm about to crash — in other words,
asphyxiate;
Oh, I'm really in very deep trouble, and I think it may be too
late.”
“Wait, Sir! It seems that we may have solved it, for the
picture is clearer now,
Yes! Yes! You can still save yourself, Sir, for we've finally
figured out how.
If you will just do the following thing, there will be a quick
turnabout:
Just muster up all your strength, Sir, open up, and pull
that cigarette out!”
Go on to:
A Father’s Loving Plea
Return to: Poetry by Lance Landall
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