The final cliché
When th’endangered species are no more
and the seas are no longer around,
and the multicultural masses
are expiring under the ground;
When every darned thing has been side-lined;
and the last line in the sand has been drawn,
and nothing is fit for purpose,
and nobody else can be born;
When the toasted lonely planet
circles a raging star,
sexuality won’t be an issue
or what religion you are;
When ethnicity’s simply irrelevant
and there isn’t a single one
to choose the road less travelled
for all the diversity’s gone;
The moon will turn itself around
and reveal what had passed us by—
a notice in very small letters:
Terms and conditions apply.
W.H. Presley