A Few Hundred Years

A few hundred years, so much is lost;
our engines churn not counting the cost.
A world we’ve fed to the factory’s greed;
a truly atrocious spiritual deed.
Nations and species, lands of power;
in my mouth today the taste is sour.
Why do we do it? We don’t even know
Why can’t we simply stand and say “No!”
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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
This entry was posted in Green Poetry, Life, nature, Spirit. Bookmark the permalink.

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