Mother of Man

August 31, 2008
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Her flesh is burned
Her soil sucked dry
The vast oceans that stretch across her bosom
Are dirtied with the waste of the living.
Greedy hands pry apart every layer of her existence,
Plunging into roughened terrain, into the depths
Of her mind
Unaware of the existential demise
Of the one they call mother,
Man continues to take, to pull
Violating the once pristine body of their creator.
As she gives forth her heart, her entirety, her being,
A silent tear flows down the roughened face
Of the mother
That man inhabits.

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