The cold red sun
Burns d city streets
The dusty trees bear
Ruefully the ruthless mix
Of civilization and nature
This was once an oasis has
Now into a desert turned
Where ppl flock for their future
The present looks absurd
Where does all d wealth go
Y do we work harder each day
There is no summit to conquer
Abandon d race, play, rest
Have the mountains no more wisdom in them
Fresher waters we wont drink
Cleaner air we wont breathe
Soil and sand we wont play
So what if we become d best in d world
I dream not to live in high rises or colonies
But to own a hut amongst d trees
Where I wil not miss tv
Very evocative poem. Well written. Painted a picture in words thanks........... BB
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you so much Kelly and Paul. Means a lot. Cheers!