The Oil Slick travels…
Oil,
the sea would spoil,
the slick contracted into a floating lump,
wildlife actually touched the substance,
it was almost like an attack,
as the oil slick touched back,
stress and anguish and so much more,
as death washed up on a black beach,
the oil slick kept washing ashore,
almost at a leisure pace,
covering everything all over the place,
the ebony pebbles crushed loudly
under humanity’s feet,
nature fought the demand,
fell to the command,
as the hermit crabs
were caught in the coarse black sand,
no warning lights flashing,
as the birds were oozing and splashing,
millions gushed before a single cap,
and the wildlife caught up in it
like a Venus fly-trap,
almost as if the oil would recoil,
and react to stimuli,
a darkness rising,
as wildlife realized their future was on hold,
as the present would unfold,
and a savior was left out in the cold,
too much oil,
and they suffocate,
common sense, blown,
as the oil slick becomes a growing sea foam.
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