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THE TRAVELLER
A traveller, if he came, might stop
And stay a while. He may take in the
Many sights, eat some of the many foods,
Drink some of the many wines, or walk
Some of the many paths.
A traveller from
A distant land may stay with us for
A longer while,
Seeing, eating, drinking and walking
More than a normal visitor.
An interstellar traveller, if he came,
Might take one look at our planet
And leave. And, turning to his desk,
Take up pen and paper and write
�Never coming back. Your world,
Though home to countless life forms,
Is ruined by the existence of one.
You.�
He might continue,
�You think of what�s best for you,
Not caring about your neighbours. You always want
More; more money, more food, more wine, more
Power. You are by far the most selfish lot I have seen
In this universe. I think your deities made a mistake.�
Thus closing, he might put his pen, take up the message,
And throw it down to us. But we never read it.
We blow it up.
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