Over time,
lush forests of green,
have come tumbling down,
like a child learning to walk.
Years have sped by,
like a racecar driver speeding into first.
People have come,
and people have gone.
In the end, nothing will remain
Except dead trees and smog-filled skies.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Havoc
PoetryEvery story deserves to be told just as everyone has the right to live. This just happens to be my story. *A collection of 50 poems*
