When It Comes (You Won't See It)
By E.S. Wynn


When the apocalypse comes,
One prophet cries out in joy, vindicated.
Another prophet drops to his knees and cries,
Wonders why all his efforts, his prayers
Were in vain.

When the apocalypse comes,
A woman hardly notices,
Drops her daughter off at school
And succumbs slow to a quiet death
In her cubicle at work.

When the apocalypse comes,
A young couple strains against the ash,
Struggles to meet one last time,
To kiss, to leave,
To find a way to live
Together
Only to fall
To fail
To die.

When the apocalypse comes,
A rich man silently salutes the dying sun,
Cigar in one hand, wineglass in the other
Because he knew,
He saw it coming,
He played the game to the very end,
Milked it, milked his workers
Because in the end, he knows,
Nothing, not even the game he plays,
Really matters.


- - -
If you see things, say them.