The End of the World Again.

Walking down this grassy knoll

I see the stars of which Mayans foretold

the world would end on twenty-twelve.

This story will come and go placed upon a bookshelf

along with many more put to a laughing stock like 21st of May

where all the sinners would have paid.

If that day truly comes I'll sit outside

on my face a smile opened wide.

Reminiscing of the days gone by

and how time surely flies by.