The Forests

The water dripples in itself,
The brook like a never ending flow of life.
The natural beauty of the world soon decays,
Like the mind of a alzheimers patient.
The brook gets filled in as if it never existed.
Roads cover the home of those whom once lived,
Existing in the quiet forest is now hopeless.
The animals forced out,
The trees cut.
What has happened to our society?
Once we lived with the forests, the animals, the brook;
Taking only that which is needed,
And not depriving future generations.
Then after we've taken over that which wasn't ours,
We neglect it and let it die;
Along with our heritage.





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