Now mankind nears the watershed of Fate,
In time of trouble framed by clouds of war
New-gathered in the Middle East, the core
Eternal of religious love and hate.
The days are numbered. Meanwhile, we await
Explosively the order to withdraw,
Excessive brinkmanship won't help the poor,
Nor ease the tensions that accumulate.
Not by the oily strand strip called Kuwait
Is the reply found for fair freedom's shore
Ne'er seemed so distant, and a tidal bore
Existence threatens. Is it not too late?
Take care elsewhere. Beware the mirage. State,
Youth undermines. Underemployment's sore
O'erspreads the world, a cancer, more and more
New disappointment fosters, may create
Escape valves which illusions prove too late.
Jonathan ROBIN
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/acrostic-1991/
