This World, Poem by Kymyata Parks

The wind blew heavily,
The lake was Drying out...
My Grandmother was crying,
And flowers in the winter began to sprout...
My brown eyes started to turn Gray,
No feed for the horses, only hay...
Fish in the sea had no Scales,
There were millions of holes in the rusty pales...
Snakes had three feet,
And qoats had two tails...
Silver Began to turn Gold,
And Gold became dust...
Nothing in the world really mattered,
Not even lust...
Material things were like penny's,
And Penny's are nothing.
This world was turning around,
Actually into something.