Nature

Sitting here alone, birds flying by,

Grass' patched with green, big open blue sky..

This land is dead with nature,

This town killed it all.

So we must wait for later,

Wait for Mother to call.

These people are materialistic,

All they care for is stuff.

Their opinions aren't statistics,

They kill the world with scuff.

What would they do without their house or their boat?

What would they do without that heavy winter coat?

Die off slowly, one by one..

Nature's not enough for them,

Without their stuff, this world is done.

And with no materials, inside they are dead.

Author's Note

'Mother' is referring to Mother Nature ^^

Reviews

[[untitled]]

I completely agree with you. We live in a material world and it's killing us, and we it.

Great poem!

[Laura Sparkle]

True. So very very very true.