Her body made of minerals
Old forests now make coals
Picks and shovels dig it out
To leave great gaping holes
The unfound coals make diamonds
With other gems compressed
A million years of making
For all the most well dressed
Each miner like a surgeon
Cuts at her body parts
Planning each incision
Mapped out before he starts
Her veins once rich with golden ore
Now slowly drained away
It’s how Earth’s body lost her health
When the wealthy made her pay
© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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