Prompt Twenty-three – Text Prompt

Write a poem about a world that is not this one.

 

The Caveman Calls

 

The cavemen had it good.

They foraged for food,

Collected their wood,

and relied on their mood.

 

They drew on their cave wall,

Which was really their rave hall.

Hunted when the crave calls.

Never needed to shave at all.

 

No roads, no cars, no potholes

No pressure, no need for career goals

No gas bills, no meters, no carbon coals

No voting, no lobbying, no tax polls.

 

No banks, no cards, no hefty loans

No wars, no blitz, no spyware drones

No pollution or low emission zones

No candy crush on mobile phones.

 

That’s the life for us I guess.

We don’t need so much, a lot lot less

Some basic shoes, a basic dress

I’m heading there. Coming? Yes?