The Good Life Poem by patricia dashwood

A good life today is measured by money
To me its seems strange and even uncanny
Artificial, superficial, new values of life
Outcast and ridiculed those born into strife

The lesser one toils, the greater the reward
Some slave the day long, only bread can afford
Those who do favours, considered as daft
Esteemed are those that envy do craft

No thoughts lost on others, lost character mellow
Compassion detained for the under fellow
Love thy neighbour, now, a thing of the past
Conflict and war, just how long will it last

Synthetic food, artificial savour
Some never relish true natural flavour
Silicon shaped bodies, the original’s a shame
A shirt’s value established, determined by name

Everyone craving to be a big spender
Pay, never-never, the loan from the lender
The greens heed advice, their alert not enough
The remaining opt to take warnings as bluff

Misuse and abuse hail nature’s disasters
Catastrophe lingers on tongues of broadcasters
Earths water, contaminated, no longer pure
Without this precious fluid how can life endure?

The insects and bees who pollen the trees
Are dying, contamination, earth latest disease
Felled are the forests at such a swift pace
Lost lungs of the earth, for the whole human race

Where on earth will the world be?
The day there’s no longer left standing a tree
Harmony with nature, compensate what you take
Our world is a treasure, do not forsake