On the path there lies a stone;
Hardwoods stand decades grown;
The shrubs now all show their fruit;
A pleasent breeze spells the truth;
What we see may not be good;
Steele griders now,where trees once stood;
In the air a fine dust floats;
Deminishing our breath,but not our hopes;
The sea is full and harvest fine;
It's been there since the beginning of time;
A stream meanders mirror topped;
Only the sea can make it stop
What we see may not be good;
Oil spills,misunderstood;
The stream still flows but now in pain;
Because of man and acid rain;
As we look and see the truth;
We wonder,what of the new youth;
As we walk that path we learn;
To leave that precious stone unturned.
John Blackwood
St.John's, Newfoundland, Canada.
Reason for writing:
The uncontroled progression of man and the suffering he has inflicted upon his environment.
Birth sign: Not entered
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