Neo-Victorian Poetry
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Evangelism

They just don’t see it coming
Or think they’re out of reach
Of walls of water soon to crush
Their bodies on the beach.

I point and scream, “Tsunami!”
I pull them and I plead.
I blurt out explanation
For why waves thus recede.


But they’re busy gleaning fishes
Left naked on the beach
‘Cause they just don’t see it coming
Or they think they’re out of reach.


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