A PROBLEM

Like mould upon overripe cheese
The spores descended
Trees fell over onto knobbly knees
Waved goodbye with spindly arms
Dropped withered leaves as good luck charms
And that was a problem

​​​​​​Mr sun 
Cast a baleful eye
Fell down
From a mottled sky
Departed somewhere
Over the rainbows
To die
And that was a problem

The cows and sheep 
​​​​​​Lay down with each other
Smiled and sighed
In last relief
'oh dear Lord our souls to keep'
And that was a problem

The plastic moon
Dripped waxen tears
The starry night
A desolate sight
Breath dipped it's toxic fingers
Stirred the bowl with vigor
And that was a problem

​​​​​Tomorrows children rose as one
Raised accusing fingers
Fragmented
Done
Retreated back to futures 
None
And that was a problem

And death?
He pulled out the history books
Bewildered at his own demise
Turn the page
Turn the page 
Turn the page
Quick