OkraA Poem by Kenneth Nicholas LoweWhen all the world is sleeping, When all the trees are growing brown When animals are no more creeping From around and about their grounds When all the air is poison When all the waters are running black And the soil won't hear our reason And money can't buy it back!!! © 2015 Kenneth Nicholas Lowe |
StatsAuthorKenneth Nicholas LoweMelbourne, Victoria, AustraliaAboutBorn to the Human Race, I live in the land of India for the time being with a major ancestral inclinations to the Anglican and Celtic anthropological denominations. With that being said, My day job.. more..Writing
|