Poem #305

The wind is whistling
The leaves are rustling as they hit the ground.
A colorful tapestry paves the way
for another season change.
So the nature builds, so it evolves,
Constantly adapting while never losing its beauty.

And yet those who consider themselves
the pinnacle of evolution, know nothing of change.
Always fighting the same war
Fat egos destroying land that isn’t theirs.
We are behaving like the owners when we should be grateful to be guests.

We say it’s for progress, for prosperity
but we are up to our elbows in blood
For progress and prosperity
we have proven to be the best at building prettier chains.

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2 thoughts on “Poem #305

  1. πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–

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