Mountain

I did not really like this poem, and as such, I submitted it anyway in hopes of discovering things i could improve on. Oh, also, there is a hidden meaning in this poem, meaning that this is not just about a mountain. Here we go.

I opened my eyes this morning
To discover that it did not matter
If I did so or not
Because I was blinded
By the might, of a mountain.
See when I think of a mountain
I think of a majestic
Piece of architecture
Produce by some of the most brilliant engineers I can think of
Like Mother Nature, Father Time, and maybe a deity or two
But what I always seem to forget, is their size
I am a man made of 6ft and 3in of hulking
Whatever
But this colossus of span
If breathtaking
I woke up, and all I had to do was roll over
And its audacious might simply stole any eloquence
Or grace that I had left in my tongue
Yet I am overjoyed
That in today’s world of
I do not give a damn how many species I drive into extinction
Build my ozone demolishing, defiance of beauty
RIGHT THERE
I have seen men move a forest from its roots
Drag it far away to a sawmill
And turn it into their slaves
I bore witness to an entire lake
Being evaporated, so someone could build
A mansion they did not need
But I will never see anyone
Move a mountain
Storms rip the wildlife to sheds
And yet it stands quite motionless and proud
Sure, men could use their death dealing explosives
And blast craters in its sides until there was enough
Erosion to have the mountain crush itself
But even then, the men are not defeating the mountain
The power of that peak, crushed itself
Because it was too proud to succumb to a man
Who knew about appreciation and awe
And everything about destruction and mayhem
It takes s much longer to build something as grand
Or as powerful, as a mountain
And what is interesting
Is that the only thing that can bring it down
Is itself