A Modern Life
While we trample on the grass,
Our lives continue, they do pass.
In our forests, brooks barely flow,
Near our towns, dams still grow.
We spend our days without concern
Bumbling fools that must learn.
Our souls are lusting for material gain
While our hearts fill with excruciating pain.
Our days are full of people rushing,
Never stopping, Never blushing.
Always increasing, never falling
We must slow for sake of stalling.
Therefore we must, if we might,
Not give in, but rather fight;
This hideous world of Urban Blight
Or our deaths will be in sight.
For if soon we do not heed,
To another we will concede.
A thriving beast beyond repair,
For its name is despair.